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How Do You Eat an Elephant?
Posted: December 16, 2010 By: Leah Jaffee

This morning was one of those times when I first wake with my eyeballs. Hearing Aviva's alarm go off, I open my eyes like a person with 'locked in' syndrome. My first impulse is to take stock of the basics. Who am I?

Ah, I am still Leah Jaffee. The body snatchers have not carried me off in the night. My identity has not been stolen. Darn. I struggle to wrap my brain around what day it is....am I supposed to panic? My eyeballs relax as I realize that I don't have to do a dinner for 200 people, or anybody else. It does cross my mind that I would be a better mom if I got up and made Aviva breakfast. A short argument of 2 seconds leaves me winded in defeat; she is 16, she can make her own breakfast.

My body still hasn't moved. I feel heavy, sunk deep into the mattress and wonder if the scale lilts heavily under obligation. My internal alarm is usually set no later than 6:44, earlier if need be. This morning I'm slacking, closing my eyes to the shoulds and coulds. I've heard the rain beating on the roof, the wind whipping by the window. I want to hibernate.

My daughter leaves for school; my eyeballs register guilt but their short moral fiber miss my conscience. I revel in and sink beneath the duvet inhaling the luxury of defiance. Embezzling selfishness I absorb a few minutes to be a human being, setting aside the compulsiveness of a human doing.

I climb out of my mattress and longingly gaze back at the fluff of the Ralph Lauren rose garden. I do note that there isn't a white chalk line around the abandoned warm indentation...this is not an out of body experience. I am up, I am awake, I can do this.....how do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time....and, I am grateful for one more day.

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