The Juxtaposition that is my Life

I wake up when it's still cold and dark.  I shower and get ready quickly.  And I'm greeted by Ethan when I open the bathroom door.  We rush to the kitchen.  Cereal is out.  Bowls and spoons and milk.  I fill the kids' water bottles.  Wait!  Madeline is having a field trip today, she doesn't need one.  Dump.  Time to make lunches.  Before I finish I need to wake up Madeline.  Quick get dressed.  Brush hair while eating.  Hurry Miss, time to finish up.  Cooper's calling.  Ethan starts to practice the piano.  I've got to get the bills ready to mail.  Where is the overdue library show?  Don't forget I'm meeting you for parent-teacher conferences right after school today.  Don't go home with Michael.  Where are your shoes?  Climb down Cooper!  Finish packing lunches.  Sign planner.  Find coats.  Brush your teeth.  Hurry Madeline.  Ethan needs help with piano.  We have five minutes until the carpool comes.  Hand Cooper his milk, help Ethan, find Madeline and help her focus.  Quick!  Time for prayers.  HONK!  The ride is here!

The kids are off.  Now time to catch Cooper.  "HIDING!," he shouts and he runs away.  New diaper and get dressed.  Pack Cooper's lunch.  Find the library show.  Brush teeth and make my bed.  I have to make my bed, it was unmade for 10 weeks!  "Pretty" Cooper says.  Yes, I agree.  Pack a diaper, get my badge, don't forget the bills.  Load in the car.  I drop Cooper off at Mimi's house and as I pull away I admit I do a little victory cheer.  This is the first time I haven't needed help in 10 weeks.  I finally can do  all the things that are mine!

Now I head towards the freeway.  Wait!  Turn in library show.  I make a u-turn…finally on the freeway, I zip towards the hospital.  Fast.  Hurry.  I glance at the clock.  I find a far away parking spot.  I rush in.  I enter the NICU and scrub my arms and hands.  Scrub scrub scrub.  Through the doors and turn the corner.

And that's when I see Oliver.  And time stops.

For two hours I hold him.  Still and silent.  I study the shape of his lips.  His hands.  His hair.  Hearing only our breath.  Slow and calm.

...

The cold wind as I leave the hospital brings me back and I remember the loads of laundry waiting for me at home.  I am not exactly sure how or when these two worlds will merge.  But I'm excited for the challenge, because honestly, I love them both.