Mixing metaphors


I'm caught, like a small fish in a tide pool, between here and there, between before and after, between four children and five children.

I'm hanging suspended between now and in the future, between thirty and thirty-five, between not writing and writing.

I avoid resolutions because I run to catch up with regular life, but I remember that resolutions can guide me into a clearer place.

Here are some questions.

If I do something everyday, will it seem easier?

If I make lists of things to accomplish, will they free me or entrap me?

Is now the time to think of change?

Or is it time now only to grow a baby, to sleep, to wake up late, after the kids, wondering what happened to me? I sleep when they are awake- this is not like me. But I should be thankful that I can sleep- that they are old enough to wake up and find something to do in the house until it becomes too much and one prods another one and shrieking wakes me.

If I wake up after them I always feel like I spend the whole day trying to catch up.

What do you think?

Either way, wow. A baby is coming. Soon.