Recommended this week: release your words and share your shirt

I get this feeling in my legs when I don’t get enough exercise. My whole family is like that, we get agitated when we can’t physically move. We’re like those dog breeds people feel sorry for in condos.

It’s super weird, especially in a world where so many people can’t get motivated to exercise. It’s like we can’t NOT exercise.

I get the same jumpy feeling when I can’t find a place to put the thoughts in my head. Sometimes sentences weave themselves in my brain and just stay there, spinning, crowding each other out.

They’re like “LET US OUT OF HERE”. Tapping loudly on the inside of my eyeball.

The sentences are usually about my babies. How I can’t stop kissing them. How we are still one body, somehow, even though there is open space available between us.

We have no use for it. We choose to sandwich up against one another most of the time. Baby F (FL now… my almost-preschooler) usually has at least one limb INSIDE my shirt. Arm up a sleeve, arm down the neck hole, whatever. My body is her body.

RD is still nursing. We cuddle up lying next to each other and he drinks and falls asleep. His expression is so peaceful, open, distant. A saint, a sage.

I lay them down side by side on the bed after their bath, wrapped up in towels. I ask FL – “who should I moisturize first?” and she says “Baby”. So I unwrap him and distract him with tickle-me-elmo in one hand while I put lotion on him. Then I put lotion on FL, and she escapes to sprint up and down the hall naked, squealing with delight.

 

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