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  • This morning

    While I was sitting here drinking coffee

    In the silent stillness and stifling solitude

    Of my writing space

    My mind drifted lazily


    To when I was a young woman

    And my two oldest kids were still my kids

    The time of two cats in the yard

    Where everything was loud and noisy

    Gritty and grating at times.

    I was obsessed

    With cleaning up my messy life

    Which was actually

    A deliciously divine messy life

    But I didn’t know it at the time.

    You see

    Back then I believed

    My messy life wasn’t good

    And certainly not




    Or worthy.

    It didn’t fit

    Into the glossy pages

    Of a coffee-table magazine

    I would never ever be

    Wife or mother of the year

    But oh how I longed

    For that impossible

    That implausible

    That unattainable


    I thought

    So foolishly

    It’s laughable now

    That this messiness was a problem

    This glorious domestic chaos

    And magnificent uproarious thunder

    Racket and tumult

    This callow tender tackiness

    Of everyday life

    Was something to be fixed.
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