Yesterday was one of those days we were counting down the minutes until baby bedtime. The queen and I have been sick from the cold front and in that delirium picked up some other ailments. For me, the culprit appears to be some funky beef. For three days in a row I was eating it without assessing if it was something new. With kids, there’s no time to think. The elder princess was sent home from daycare for her cough and I was taking care of everyone the best I could. After I figured out my problem and was looking back on the experience, it was astonishing I stayed on my feet. My super power is being able to focus so intensely that dying won’t stop me. An ability I worked on since at least the Army is separating the mind/body connection to paint. At the time I wanted to go to SERE school, where they literally torture you. The training is to prepare for being a POW and not divulge any secrets under duress. There was also the element that you could be jumped anytime by coworkers. When you’re held down and there’s a line of guys waiting to hit you, my intention was to give them no satisfaction to my paint; no reaction. How that plays out in child care is hard to explain. Fluids were coming out of everywhere they could and physically it felt like the world was crushing my skull. Then add on kids crying and screaming, I’m happy to be past it. I swear, a baby’s cry is designed to shut down a parent’s whole body. Nothing matters more than fixing that cry. All that leads to like I said, counting the minutes until I can be alone and sit still. Thankfully that’s not everyday.
Chris' Morning Pages 