Unmoved

Aaron is out for ice cream with his dad.

Adelia bounces in-and-out, in-and-out, a thousand times in-and-out of her bedroom. A drink. The bathroom. A bandaid.

Ollie, after shouting relentlessly for more songs, snores and dangles one arm and one leg uncomfortably over the edge of the bed.

The big boys tease and wrestle and rough house, even though lights out was 20 minutes ago.

And Ruby alternates wailing pathetically through the crack under the door, and barking like a dog. She learned to climb out of her crib yesterday.

But where am I? The manager, the caretaker, the peacekeeper, the mother?

I am sluggish. Stationary. A statue in the rocking chair with my baby at my breast. Glazed. Unmoved. Oxidized. And oh, so tired.