It’s been two months since my last post? Eeek.
Life is flying by. This morning the little one woke me at 5:30. This evening the big one didn’t go to sleep until 8:30. And then there are still things to do: lunch to be made, dishes to be washed, laundry to be folded. That makes for one seriously long day, especially considering the little one only wanted to nap ON me (no personal time).
I am told that it goes by too fast, to treasure it, that someday I’ll miss it. I believe it. Some days are bone crushingly exhausting. Some days are maddening. Some days drag by in tedium. Some days are whirlwinds. There is never enough time. There is always too much to do. Someday I will have a perfectly tidy house that doesn’t get undone an hour into our day by busy little hands. Some day I will miss markers strewn on the floor, high pitched squeals, backpacks flung, dirty socks. Right?
I love it and it drains the me out of me.
I am always trying to live the balance of this, of surviving it, of finding humor and joy and love in the midst of chaos and exhaustion and anxiety. Some days I win, somedays I lose. Somedays I am the crockpot-clean floor-queen and some days we get pizza delivered because I can’t think of how to feed us all.
Adam is traveling and we miss him like crazy every moment of every day. All of us. Anna cries, “I just want to snuggle with my Daddy!” Lily toddles around, peering around corners, calling his name, “Dada? Dada?” I sit and wish for those quiet moments between the two of us that are so rare these days. The moments where our hands fall together and our eyes meet and we are glad to be in this together. We are still in this together but sometimes it feels like we are war buddies. Everything is so much more even keel when his presence is here. He calms and sustains us. We survive here, the three of us girls (plus Porkchop, who should really count for two people, I think, given his inclination towards noise and mess and neediness), but we aren’t whole.
Today Anna and I put up some fall decorations and I admired her slow and careful attention to balance and order as she laid miniature pumpkins across the mantle. She is careful in so many things. I am fascinated by watching her become who she is becoming. Such a lovely little whirling swirling presence.
Lily stumbles and falls and gets up again and does this a hundred (thousand?) times a day. She is different from Anna (of course, but it still amazes me). She seems bullheaded like her sister (!), but she is less cautious. She throws herself into things–into meals, into walking, into my arms. She plays hard, she sleeps hard. She is full force.
It is October and soon it will be November and Anna will turn 7. I remember 7. Seven was a slumber party (I think?) and a unicorn cake and giggling girlfriends. How is she seven?
This is a beautiful, messy life and I’m happy to be living it.