the mud

I need to be tucked in. I remember my mother tucking me into bed and I needed the sheets and blankets tucked in 'all the way around me.' It is funny now because my own kids didn't like to be tucked in that way. Annie would kick her way out of the tightest swaddle from the time she was four days old. I still like to feel tucked in. I wriggle my way into bed, with my side having perfect hospital corners, while his side is all a mess. I can turn just slightly so the blankets form an edge around me and I am tucked in. I even have an idea for a blanket edged in elastic so that when I'm on the couch I can have that feeling of being tucked in. Maybe that's already a thing. I wonder what makes me crave that Tucked In feeling now. Perhaps it is the craziness of the world that I want to cut myself off from, to create a barrier between me and the rest of the upheaval. I want to feel like I'm in a quiet oasis in the midst of the chaos. Months after 9/11, I remember hearing