So I am surrounded in my day to day life by these people I think are crazy. Certifiably. At the very least, part of them lives constantly in an alternative world, a lot like the bizarro Seinfeld episode.
LittleG spends much of our time together debating "which one" she wants to be. Doesn't matter what we are looking at - flowers, cartoons, characters in a book, oranges - she wants to identify with one of them, and she wants me to identify with one of them. Doesn't matter to her that five minutes ago she wanted to be the cute pudgy cartoon character with the yellow face. Now she wants to be the white daisy with the yellow center. And what's scary is, it doesn't seem to faze her. A. BIT. I, on the other hand, feel perpetually like the stupid kid at school - I never seem to keep up with her as she changes subjects and characters.
She tells these long colorful detailed stories about her and her sisters (she's an only child, mind you), where there are fairies and balloons and secret castles. My BFF told me once that children who have fertile imaginations tend to be intellectually gifted. If that's true, watch out Ivy League, here we come!
She makes up rules to games I've never heard of, uses words that have absolutely no connection whatsoever to the only language we speak in our family, and constantly barrages me with questions about life and nuggets of information that only she understands the significance of.
Then there is MrG. He spends a lot of time on his Xbox or his computer playing one game or another. Sometimes he's a big scary looking monster who has magic powers. Sometimes he's an army guy shooting good guys. Or Zombies. I can't keep it straight. There is nearly always some type of violence involved, no matter the medium.
The only violence I participated in today was some really horrible arm waving at this idiot in front of me who apparently didn't understand my sense of urgency for getting to work TODAY. Oh, and I squished a bug in the grass.
The point is, sometimes I feel like I'm the only one connected in any way whatsoever to reality. While LittleG is curled up in bed with Mr Duck, her dad is down the hall shooting guys on the TV screen and speaking entirely too loudly to his buddies who are somehow magically now connected into our game room through his headset. Many nights, I creep in quietly and kiss him on the forehead silently, because I'm afraid a big wet goodnight kiss will be broadcast all over cyberspace or Xboxland, or where ever the hell he happens to be that night.
Don't get me wrong. My husband could be out drinking and carousing. He doesn't beat me, doesn't cheat on me, doesn't gamble away the family fortune. And my kid? She could just totally ignore me, as I know she will eventually. But instead, she includes me in her fantasy world and engages me constantly with that little mind that is expanding so quickly.
While my family escapes into whatever it is that drives them, I am faced with the stark reality of real life. My laundry is piled in its basket - a basket that never seems to be empty. The clothes get dirty, the clothes get washed, the clothes go in to the basket, and the whole cycle starts all over. I cannot imagine a moment in my life when that basket will ever truly be empty.
(Note to those of you not getting it - the clothes basket is a metaphor for the skutwork in my life - laundry, dishes, groceries, bills. Keep up here, folks).
At least my escapes are sane ones - some crappy reality TV, Castle (I heart Richard Castle!!), the 30 or so of you who click in to read my words of wisdom every day. (Please invite your friends, I'd really like to be at about 50).
I spend a lot of time in my own brain trying out phrases, thinking of words that paint a picture. And that's been really good for me. Gives me a tiny escape from reality. So I guess I do get a little respite from Real Life. But my stays in Bizarro Life are short and sweet, and I always come back down to earth.
I've had some comments that I've not blogged every day during Lent. Trust me. I have. I just haven't published it all yet. And some of it you may never see. Because once it's out there, it becomes reality. And a girl's gotta have a little escape sometime.