Jo Brown
Jo Brown
Aug 22, 2017 · 2 min read

Mommy’s up…

The seaweed is always greener/In somebody else’s lake/You dream about going up there/But that is a big mistake…

Ugh. We fell asleep to The Little Mermaid. Again. The hotspot is still on. My back is sore. Well her foot explains it. This girl is solid muscle. Shoot, I didn’t put the food away. Feel like I got jumped by the Muppet Babies. Dang. My contacts are still in. These jauns are dry. Did I change her? Ugh. Nope. She’s wet. Where’s the remote? Sebastian is loud.

Hello to the hopeful snooze, short stack wishes, long black, worn robe wearing, toe out slipper, and silk scarf day formerly known as Saturday. One would presume I’d be able to rise up after the sun has already spent a few hours dialoguing. That’s a pipe dream. Rather, a prayer. She doesn’t find late rising opportunistic. In fact, neither do I. But Saturdays have a way of manipulating me to believe that sleeping in is still available to me as a parent. It lied and I potentially lied to myself while I daydreamed about it; and although the early bird catches the worm, I’d like to think that if I decided to hibernate today, I’d still be fed or productive, even if it means resting is the only goal met. Maybe He’ll send a raven to see to it that I am taken care of.

I’ve spent so much time doing and going that I forget to just be. Doing is exhausting, but doing, at the expense of becoming, is deathly. I would like to perceive that becoming should be more of an emphatic commitment. If who I am does not ripen accordingly, then over time I become the leaf and not the fruit, slyly manipulating others to believe that I am in fact a seed bearing substance, when essentially I’ve unintentionally lied as I did, to myself, in the daydream.

Maybe another hour of sleep will convince me that today is the day where I shut the blinds on doing and revisit dreaming so I can re-awaken to a different me-one whose reality is not initially and solely permeated by wet Pull-ups and a tike who envisions dancing fruit juice boxes in her dreams.

Mommy, may I have some juice?

Ok. I’m officially up.

)
    Jo Brown

    Written by

    Jo Brown

    Somewhere correcting grammar, chasing a tike, being creative, or worshipping God. Find me and you’ll find my work.

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