How is it February already? I am clueless as to where the days are going. They’ve been lost in maintaining the mundane. I keep waiting for something resembling normalcy to emerge and it’s proved to be an elusive beast. Just when I think I’m inching up on it, picking my way around the squeaky floorboards, reaching out a hand to grab it unawares, it disappears and some new challenge presents itself. Last week? The hubby was away for a conference and I was solo parenting two kids for the first time. This week? Looks like I’ve got two boys with colds and am helping the hubby prepare to take peanut to Florida for another attempt at a shuttle launch.
Friday evening, the hubby asked what I wanted to accomplish over the weekend. “A shower.” He laughed and said perhaps I should aim a little higher. I wish I could. I wish I was in a place where I felt like I could power through cleaning the house, caring for the young’uns, read a book, prepare a meal and cheerfully do it all in a cute outfit and heels. I wish I was even in a place where I could cross one thing off my to do list a day that didn’t include feeding eager mouths and cleaning bottoms. But it’s just not life right now. I’m admittedly feeling a little lost in all the need. Peanut’s need for attention. Pumpkin’s need to eat. And eat. And eat. The hubby’s need for a response from me that’s more than “yes,” “no,” and “whatever.” The bathroom’s need to be clean. Our primal needs to eat. And you know, pee occasionally.
What did I end up accomplishing over the weekend, even with an optimistic aim higher attitude? A shower. Oh, and grocery shopping (hunger can be quite the motivator).
With peanut, I was able to let him dictate our routine. I was way more laid back and relaxed. If the hubby and I ate dinner at 10pm, that was okay. If peanut fell asleep after nursing on my chest, no worries. I just snuggled in and caught up on the DVR or *gasp* took a nap myself. If I didn’t make it out of my jammies some days, no worries, I’d just run errands the next day.
This time around, there are demands, preschool carpool, appointments, play dates, expectations and two kids’ bodily rhythms to balance. And I’m just having a harder time not being able to control it all the way I want to. How can I explain to a not-yet-three-month-old that he needs to just wait 15 minutes for us to pick up peanut at school? How can I make my three-year-old feel loved and attended to when I spend three hours in the afternoon feeding pumpkin, attempting to get him down for a nap, finally failing at the attempt only to have to feed him again and again try to get him down for a nap since by this point I know the poor child is beyond exhausted? How can I explain to the hubby that I’m not tired to the point of speechlessness in the evening because I didn’t sleep well (although there are still those middle of the night appointments with pumpkin) but because my brain must put down the balls its been juggling all day or risk short circuiting?
Not all days are this crazy. In fact, right this moment, at the risk of jinxing myself, peanut’s watching a movie and pumpkin’s napping and the bathrooms and laundry are patiently waiting…for now. So I’ll try to luxuriate in this quiet moment. This moment of peace and harmony before someone has to potty or needs to nurse or I realize the dinner hour is approaching. This moment where my need to vent finally outweighs everyone else’s needs. This moment where I can breathe in deep into my diaphragm and feel the me buried inside that is more than just a vessel of delivering others’ needs. If for just a moment.
Live in the moment, they say. This moment, I take for me.