Biting the apple

I have not put away the laundry for 6 months. I take it off the line. I take it out of the dryer. And I pile it. Higher. And higher it goes. Until it is teetering. Waiting. To be put away. At first, I thought the block was not knowing where everything went. "Just guess," says Mary. "Guess!?" But what if I put Sikhona's dress in Rowan's drawer!? "Just guess." And so I did. I tried that. Guessing. And it worked. Cut through. The wanting things to be in their rightful boxes. Getting it right. Because then I am a good person. A good sorter. Organizer. House wife. A good house wife. House wife? And then I realized, I don't put the laundry away because it tells me who I am. If I put those clothes away, I am house wife. And who am I if I am not teacher. Who am I? Who are we? I am my job. I am in charge. I am the buildings and fields, and students, joy, stress, laughter, busyness, sadness. Without those things, I am left with a space. And then I am clothes sorter, dish doer, diaper changer, baby-giggler, uppy puppy daughter carrier, breakfast maker, more dish doer, dinner maker, more dish doer, dirty clothes collector, washing machine stuffer, diaper changer, toy picker-upper, tornado chaser, wet clothes hanger-upper and taker-downer. But not sorter. It is putting away that somehow stamps me as stay-at-home. And I am resistant. Thirty five years of school. 80% of my life in school. And then Not. Then I am Dad. I am house-dad. Vinegar and baking soda are my weapons. And I love it. Absolutely love it. And yet, "I am not that." I am the breadwinner. I am the guy who goes away and "works" and comes home. I am all those things that surround me. And yet, I am not. I am none of those things outside. They are reflections. I am the space in between. The source. To create. Who I am. Who I can be. Who I will be. And now I sort. I put the clothes away. I know where they go. And I'm good at it, god damn it. A good clothes puter-awayer. This circus act. We are jugglers. Crazy circus performers on unicycles on a tightrope over Niagara Falls, with 8 bowling pins, 4 knives, a hatchet, 1 apple, and 12 wet diapers. And I revel in it. Especially choosing the right time to bite.