NORMAL, ABNORMAL, GOOD

The Great Banana Pancake spoke to me yesterday, and this is what it said:

"Waste not thy tyme on qualms about Muther's Dae. If thy hopes aren't lifted, thou cannot fall. Harbor thoughts not of diamond earrings and chocolate cake, a massage, a horse, and a Nova but of simple harmony amongst one's kin. Follow the light, the light above the kitchen sink, where tomorrow thou canst do dishes, happily knowing thy chylde is not badly syk, her fever is down, and peace for the most part is thyne."

I heeded its words and stopped doing the gnarly pile of dishes, built up in the last few days while Lula was home sick, and told Joedy I'd finish them tomorrow (Mother's Day). I meant it: we'd been pretty busy taking care of Lula, and now that her fever had dropped I could finally relax and feel insanely grateful--again--that everything was OK! It didn't take long to figure out that what I wanted for Mother's Day I already have in googolplex quantities, and though--what the heck--I'd totally wear diamond earrings, I knew I'd be completely, entirely satisfied if the day just went normally.

Twenty-four hours later, I ate another cookie and tried to explain how the day did, in fact, go normally, with homework for Lula, some vacuuming, snacks, and The Pink Panther; I also tried to explain how the "normal things" often feel abnormal in a novel kind of way, in a you-just-won-the-lottery way. I tried to explain that, but the warm fuzzy feeling I got from the bison meatballs, chicken-prosciutto ravioli, uncooked cookie dough, cooked cookies, and Joedy--who did the dishes, fixed the washing machine, and gave me presents--clouded my mind, so I stopped trying to write and posted a video I took in Costa Rica last fall, while Joedy and I were out riding our bikes and many things were different.