From the car

From a safe distance, I sit removed in my warm minivan, watching the slow moving feminine figures convene by the white school doors. Art Club will be let out in a few minutes, but I am not tempted by the promise of contrived small talk. As a matter of fact, small talk takes me down every time. After "hello", it's a matter of moments before I manage to say something inappropriate, giggle nervously, and become unraveled. I have not mastered the art of unraveling. Some do it slowly, like a seasoned Burlesque dancer, calibrated, teasing their audience through several afternoons..Not me. There is no theatrics, no build up, no artistry. It's quick, one minute your pants are up, the next they are at your ankles and you're falling over it, quick. The kind of quick that you don't even realize it happened until you make eye contact....So I sit there and admire how the moms have brushed their hairs, how they give off such relaxed auras. Zoloft? Prozac? Valium? They stand with their hands on their hips, some have their arms crossed, few in their pockets. Despite having been signaled out for "talking" with my hands, I have never noticed until now how reserved this community is with their hand gestures. Or any gesture that would give hint that something is off balance. Yet it's the off that seems to rule my life...

For the past week I have been helicoptering between my youngest who has had a strong asthma attack that still challenges us, and my middle child who apparently serves as host for out of control yeast party. Yeast brings about many behaviors, and waging wars against it requires a strict reworking of his diet, cutting back on sugars and all things that turn into sugar, a protocol of probiotics, GSE, biotin, etc...and a massive amount of patience and self control. Asthma, has had me looking at diet differently as well....easing up on the dairy, more broths, liquids, cleaning for real....the walls, the mattresses, the blinds, the sheets, the toys, under the furniture....and yet, despite my best efforts to channel my inner cleaning woman, which by the way sucks and needs to be fired, it has made little difference. Off, off, off........followed by a few choice hand gestures, a stomping of feet dance, and self medication.....maison du chocolat........

It would be nice to be able to handle the small talk.