I find melodramatic prose comforting right now.
Imagine a shipwreck in the fog, but everyone makes it safely to a large rock. I feel like that rock, my family is standing on my back, regaining their composure and feeling safe. But I’m not a rock, I am a giant blow fish, and I am quickly expelling air. My kids and husband are losing their footing, bumbling about, completely confused with their inability to find solid ground on my now permeable flesh. Sometimes I just have to let the air out.
Life continues, friends, be it ever messy and challenging. I did convince the kids that frozen bananas blended with a dollop of whipped cream tastes better than ice cream, so at least there was one win in my corner.