For something to be stable there needs to be constants there, right? Something against which to measure the instability factors when they come into play. When you can’t find the one stable, do you loose instability too? Do the two opposites cancel each other leaving an alternative passage running through? The instability of an unstable mind..there’s a new movie, right there.
It’s 9pm. M’s asleep and I’m sitting down for dinner – coffee and a Hershey’s Kisses bag. Because it’s just me for dinner, all I want to do is go to sleep so why, really why, would I bother to cook?
Each day is a round robin of laundry and ironing and dusting and vacuuming, mopping floors, doing them again, and refilling the drawers M’s emptied out. Given the time we used to be out of doors, logic says I’d have time now to do the extras I long to do here, to tackle the sewing pile, reorganise the bathroom, stock the freezer with homecooked foods…But that’s where the stable has shifted. Whereas then, at the beginning of the plan, I had evenings to do extra things, the evenings have gone now so I must find the time in the day. And I can’t – sure, the clock hands say I could do but wherever I go, toddling M goes too – -I can’t reshuffle the bathroom he’d be in with the box of pills, so it remains in a haphazard state; I can’t sew, he won’t ignore the peddle and cooking’s out ‘cos the kitchen’s a minefield of fun. So we’re home everyday, yet the home’s never finished and that fact is my stable now too. The instability of chaos solidified forming a frame for the stableness of mind.
It’s not the parenting that’s the tough part, the reward for the slog of that’s worth it all; it’s the other stuff, the non-parenting stuff, that you haven’t got time for, or the energy to fight for. But it’s the other stuff that’s most important somedays. It’s the switching off for five minutes from Mummying to translate a news article. It’s being able to clasp up the nursing bra without feeling a two-second-later tug. It’s finding time to make space to set up the easel even if you know you won’t find the time to add paint there. It’s making something for you that reminds you of you so you don’t feel resentment for your other whose life has almost kind of stayed the same. It’s not the parenting per se, it’s the juggling of the tought with the blissful reward and remembering, minus sleep, minus enough coffee, minus a shower or a comb through your hair, that these days will pass, sanity will return. And then you’ll crave this, this madness of living, when an unasked for cuddle is a beacon of light in an otherwise dull day.
Stable now is different from then, but it’s stable that’s staying like this. It’s the stable I’ll deal with when Bump comes along, it’s the stable I’ll juggle between brothers. And the laundry will be washed and the bathroom may be done. But there’ll be coffee, there’ll be chocolate, there’ll be baby snuggle time; all will be right with this unstable spinning world, ‘cos he’s my logic is an instability of words.