A Little Soul

1.

I sat there sweating in the sun, trying to match a diagram of a little kid’s jungle gym to the pieces of fiberglass, aluminum and plastic that claimed to be a real life little kid’s jungle gym.  It wasn’t going quickly, I was dehydrated, and becoming increasingly frustrated.  The frustration was mounting due to the beautiful little boy who just wanted to help dad–largely by picking up pieces that I’d painstakingly laid out–and moving them to another part of the patio.

I swore under my breath, shooing my son away, took two steps, nearly tripped over my Great Grandmother’s beagle, took another two steps and nearly tripped over my soon to be two year old son; he had stopped in mid toddle-run to dance.

I stopped, smiled, and then looked at my mom, who was grinning ear to ear watching him go.

“What radio station is this?”

“I’m not streaming radio, Mom…not exactly.  This is Pandora…”

“Oh!  Cool!  He likes it!” she pointed at the baby, who stopped wiggling his hips to toddle off to where his Great Grandma and my wife stood chatting.  “What song is this?  I know this…”

“Across 110th St.” I offered.

I looked back at the giant erector set.  “I guess I should play Soul more often, huh?”

I sat down and went back at it.

 

2.

I’m starting work on a pilot tomorrow.  It should be a fun time, a relatively easy time, as these things go–at least for me.  I have a humane start time for a change, and though I need to leave a little early to get there on time, I shouldn’t have to get up any earlier than I usually do.

I should be asleep already.

I’m anxious.  I’m anxious about the job, and about what comes after it; I’m anxious about how my wife is going to handle life for the two weeks (and crowded weekends) to come.  After three weeks of it being pretty much me and the little kid during the days, I’m anxious about missing him.

It does not help that he’s got a little cough cough.

He’s just this little guy.  Just a loving little man.  And with every cough, I jump up to make sure he’s not going to wake up, wake his brother up, or explode.

I want to lay down, but I’m worried that I’ll wake up my wife (who really, desperately needs her sleep), oversleep myself (with these kids? Really?  REALLY?), or that I’ll just lay there listening to cough cough cough.

So I’m going to lay on the couch, close my eyes, and say my prayers, on this the day after Easter:
Now I lay me down to sleep;
I pray The Lord my soul to keep;
If I should die before I wake,
I pray The Lord my soul to take.

Now to lay down and get to it.

 

3.

I envy the poets.  The *Great* poets.  The great singers, the great writers, the great artists.  The prolific ones.  The ones where it appears to come easily;  I envy the people who can put so much of their soul on the page, on the canvas, on the stage, and then just let it go with complete and utter abandon.

I’m mostly jealous because in my brain, they sleep all day.  They sleep all day, wake up and stare at the computer–maybe as long as I do–and then they just exhale.  They correct OODLES, but they exhale and it’s mostly there.

They say to themselves:

“Hey, you!”

“Who me?”

“Yes, you, kid!

“What’s up?”

“Time to write something, put it on the page and let it all hang out before you crash and burn.”

“Ok!”

“OK! Now…let’s get to it.”

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16 thoughts on “A Little Soul

  1. Did you get the gym toy up? I’ve often thought that parents really should turn over the construction of these things to their kids anyway…fun for the kids and almost always the kids do better at it anyway 😉

    Like

    1. Indeed, I did. Sure, it took a lot of swearing, a lot of sweating and 5.5 hours, but it was (will be) worth it.

      Yeah…I tried getting the 6 year old to help me…not so much…it was sweet, but yeah…not so mucho…

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Sleep is overrated. Haven’t you heard?
    I keep trying to convince myself of that… Perhaps it’s one of those lies that comes true if believed fervently enough.
    In the meantime, I’ll just put another record on and let it spin, spin.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Gym toys should come without direction or instructions in this way the imagination can run wild and they will go up much quicker.

    I envy all who find time to write these days. Envy is the constant, but what I think maybe we forget, is it is likely they envy those who they view is doing something different. Perhaps we should all simply feel blessed we are full up with whatever is filling our lives to the brim with wonder on any given day.

    Good fortune on your new series!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I love the tone of this… how it flows. You’ve made something as mundane and frustrating as putting together a jungle gym sound like a beautiful struggle. I put together a picnic table last summer and my boys had their pretend tools all set to help. Struggle on and good luck with the new job.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you for your really super kind comments! I dunno if it were a beautiful struggle or not, but it was something akin to work, to be sure!

      Oh, man…the little man helped me some (with real tools) but he got way to into digging around his grandma’s backyard so…at times it became…interesting…

      Thanks for the wishes, and even more big thanks for the link! You’re way too kind!

      Liked by 1 person

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    1. Thank you very much!

      I’m trying to churn ’em out as fast as I can; pick ’em up, and put ’em down and keep staring at the dawn, as much as the world will let me, as much as life will let me, and as much as I can still wake up to the sounds of my children crying for mommy, or breakfast, or the dog barking at the mailman (it happens), or my wife scolding me over money, or pulling me close for a kiss, or to change a diaper.

      In short, I’m trying. And that’s the best that any of us can hope for, isn’t it?

      Thank you, and all apologies; I ended up replying in a pensive mood…blog to follow? Perhaps 🙂

      Like

      1. Nah, we’ve all been there. 😉

        Yeah, just keep trying. Some days my version of “trying” disintegrates to sitting on the floor and watching the child tear apart an old tissue box or something. 😛 Hey, he’s safe!

        Liked by 1 person

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