Too old
I think I'm too old for all nighters.
Because I wake up hung over- I only had two drinks last night:
carrot juice and lemon water.
Call me a light weight.
Black Swan eyes.
Waiting for the mate latte to kick.
Sleep deprivation does funny things. Like:
I pour Zeia a glass of water. Then I get her breakfast ready and bring it to the table. But where is her water? Disappeared. So I go to the cupboard to get a new glass and pour her another. And there in the cupboard is her full glass of water.
Because of exhaustion-induced inefficiency, I had to drive Zeia to school rather than walk or bike or skate there. (Which is embarrassing because the school is only one mile away). I explained, jokingly, "Well, I haven't taken a shower yet and I don't want everyone to be like- ew, look at Zeia's gross-y Mommy. Do you think everyone would say that?" She said, "No, but sometimes the kids say do say things like that." So I introduced the idea of "Kids can be so cruel." She asked me to define cruel. I explained that sometimes kids are intentionally mean and sometimes it's just because they are pointing out observations or asking questions and they don't realize it's hurtful. For example: "You have bad breath" or "Why are you so fat?" Zeia :::gasps::: at these. Horrified. Then I ask her where her meanness goes when she feels mean.
"I don't feel mean. I just never do. I mean, sometimes kids are sooo mean to me and I feel mad about it but I just let it, you know, escape- so I that my meanness goes onto to other kids."
Confused I asked if that means she is sometimes cruel to others.
" No no no no." She explains in an eloquent, child-like way that I cannot replicate that she decides not to care about it and her nonresponse only makes the mean kids more angry so that their cruelty stays with them and doesn't get into her.
I ask if she gets sad when kids are mean to her and if she keeps those feelings locked up inside of her. (I know, sounds like a shrink-session, but I was going with it). She says no. She lets it escape- she lets it "leak out" so that she can be a happy kid.
I turn around in my seat to look at her. Long blonde braid, a stuffed ginger cat in her lap- a small, spindly kid still in a booster seat. I ask her, "Are you magic?"
She says nothing at all, but only smiles, blushes, glows.
Because I wake up hung over- I only had two drinks last night:
carrot juice and lemon water.
Call me a light weight.
Black Swan eyes.
Waiting for the mate latte to kick.
Sleep deprivation does funny things. Like:
I pour Zeia a glass of water. Then I get her breakfast ready and bring it to the table. But where is her water? Disappeared. So I go to the cupboard to get a new glass and pour her another. And there in the cupboard is her full glass of water.
Because of exhaustion-induced inefficiency, I had to drive Zeia to school rather than walk or bike or skate there. (Which is embarrassing because the school is only one mile away). I explained, jokingly, "Well, I haven't taken a shower yet and I don't want everyone to be like- ew, look at Zeia's gross-y Mommy. Do you think everyone would say that?" She said, "No, but sometimes the kids say do say things like that." So I introduced the idea of "Kids can be so cruel." She asked me to define cruel. I explained that sometimes kids are intentionally mean and sometimes it's just because they are pointing out observations or asking questions and they don't realize it's hurtful. For example: "You have bad breath" or "Why are you so fat?" Zeia :::gasps::: at these. Horrified. Then I ask her where her meanness goes when she feels mean.
"I don't feel mean. I just never do. I mean, sometimes kids are sooo mean to me and I feel mad about it but I just let it, you know, escape- so I that my meanness goes onto to other kids."
Confused I asked if that means she is sometimes cruel to others.
" No no no no." She explains in an eloquent, child-like way that I cannot replicate that she decides not to care about it and her nonresponse only makes the mean kids more angry so that their cruelty stays with them and doesn't get into her.
I ask if she gets sad when kids are mean to her and if she keeps those feelings locked up inside of her. (I know, sounds like a shrink-session, but I was going with it). She says no. She lets it escape- she lets it "leak out" so that she can be a happy kid.
I turn around in my seat to look at her. Long blonde braid, a stuffed ginger cat in her lap- a small, spindly kid still in a booster seat. I ask her, "Are you magic?"
She says nothing at all, but only smiles, blushes, glows.