savagemama

As I lay in bed the other night tossing and turning, I finally rolled onto my stomach and looked out the window. I sighed and announced to Seth, as though he couldn’t already tell, that I was wide awake.

“I can’t sleep,” I said in the darkness of our room.

“Why?” he said. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. I think I’m hungry.”

It was 10:30 p.m. and we had eaten dinner a few hours before but lying there I couldn’t stop wondering if the hamburger we’d had leftover from the night before was still in the fridge.

“Do you want something to eat really?” he said.

“Is that hamburger from last night still in the fridge or did you take it for lunch?”

“It’s still there with potatoes. Do you want it?”

“I don’t want to get up,” I said even though I knew I wasn’t going to sleep until I ate something.

“If you are hungry, you should eat. Do you want me to go get it?”

I lay there silent.

“Well?” he said.

I did want the hamburger and I did not want to get out of bed and this man, my man, was offering to go downstairs in the dark chill to heat it up and bring it to me. In that moment I decided I could probably live with the guilt that might come with saying yes.

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Last week I took Eliza to our local library for story time. When we arrived I was surprised to see at least 40 other children younger than three years, their parents in tow, settling in for songs and stories – which is to say they were ricocheting off each other like pin balls.  As soon as we stepped into the large, carpeted room, Eliza was trying to twist free of my grasp. There were, after all, children to meet, adults to smile at. Before I knew it she was lost in a sea of little people checking things out.

Eliza, I’m learning, is not shy. In this, Seth says, she is like her mother. Truth be told, I am not very shy. I completely annoy Seth in restaurants because I stare – stare and eavesdrop. I tell him it’s not my fault the woman at the next table chose such a public place to talk about her divorce or that the people across the room, clearly on a first date, are so nervous they are giggling awkwardly and drawing attention to themselves. Every time we go out to eat, I start off minding my own business, I tell him. I can’t help it that these compelling stories are placed in my path. He usually tells me I’m full of it and when we leave I give him the run down of everyone within earshot of our table.

What can I say? People fascinate me. [Read More]