The Bubble

So I've got the kids in bed, candles are lit, my Meiko channel on Pandora in the background, and I'm ready to write.  I'm ready to step outside the "bubble" for a minute, as if that's even possible.  I'm starting to think of this life season as a bubble.  It's a fun and interesting bubble, changing shapes and colors, but one thing remains the same, it's round and enclosed and I can't get out.  Once in awhile when someone, like tonight, let's me get out "on my own," it's really like a momentary fleet.  I feel like the whole trip to and from Kroger I'm coming out of my alien-like state.  I walk tall and try to breathe.  I try to look the man on the bread aisle in the eyes and force a casual smile.  I breathe and attempt small-talk with the cashier.  By the time I'm heading back to my car I might feel like a normal person again.  Then I go back to my bubble.

It's nice in here.  That's because I've declared it a blessed bubble.  I'm no dummy.  I know we have it good. My Father is just that good.  I have my days as we all do.  Most people don't have any idea what happens inside my bubble.   Sometimes that's the part that is the hardest.  He sees though.

They don't know about the silly songs we make up about trash and diapers and grapes and suds in the bath.  They don't see us touch noses, and they don't see me tear up when you say such sweet things to my heart.  I don't get to touch people outside much besides those inside my bubble, you and our boys.  I escape out a window once in awhile, meet a friend or, like tonight, go to the grocery store without my bubble buddies.

But I've come to accept this bubble in this time and space.  It's cozy and hard and I'm learning a lot.  I'm watching them grow.  I'm taking it all in, as I'm told to do quite often, "They grow up fast!"  Sometimes I push against the wall of the bubble; I long for something different.  But then I realize it's useless, and God reminds me, "Everything's okay."  I think how hard it would be to go back to work.  Work a job and then come home and do all this!?  My heart goes out to those moms who do it "all."  Crazy-overwhelming to think of it.

I'm thankful for the bubble; this short story I am living in.  I know it's going to pop one day and I'm going to miss the small, confined space where we stared at each other all day, looking for ways to entertain ourselves, laughing together, sometimes bored, sometimes slamming doors, tickling till the hiccups start, making messes, making memories.  My kids are going to grow big and tall and hit your heads at the top of the bubble and it will burst all of a sudden.  I am going to say, "Hey, what just happened?  What now!?"

I hope I don't fall and hurt myself.

They will be fine.  They'll create their own bubbles.

Getting used to the bubble takes time.  I'll look back and miss it.  So I'm going to pay attention now as much as possible, and make this bubble last.