A Little Breather
Right now, I'm sipping homemade tea of calendula, mint and chamomile from a glass jar. This makes me so happy. The tea came from a friend, the glass from my sister, the honey my MIL bought me. In the living room, my daughter is wearing an Elsa dress and spinning to the Frozen soundtrack. There is a bird singing it's heart right out of its breast outside the kitchen window.
This is one of the quieter moments in a while, and so, I'm noticing and savoring it. For almost 8 weeks, our whole family's transitioning, and hard. First it was back-to-school for this boarding school family. We went from full-time-home-together as a family of 3 to H working long, long days and A and I on our own. The light started changing, but here in South California the weather gets hotter before it cools, the Santa Anas bringing with them the threat of fires and drying out everyone's eyes and throats.
A began preschool six weeks into the school year. I didn't set us up with options until most places were on wait-list status (hi, I'm that mom). There are both pluses and minuses to this, but I think overall it's working out in our favor.
The progression from no school to two days a week is major. I anticipated it being challenging, but it's really disrupted the kiddo's sleeping and eating, which makes her even more exhausted on top of the energy she requires to just be around other kids for half a day.
Our sleep was super disturbed with school starting. I also chocked it up to the full moon, and now, less than a week later, we all have colds.
A lot of my time with my kiddo's involved her crying, whining and hanging on my body. I know she's suffering from being sick, from tiredness, from newness in our schedules. I know she's being brave and going out into the world, and that there is an equal and opposite swinging back to home-base, AND ALSO, this mama is wiped out.
So, to have this morning at home, where we played together and now she's playing solo, where I can drink tea and write this at the kitchen counter, where I can put on this temporary tattoo and know that this is where I am at (not better slept, not more productive) and also, that this too shall pass.
I don't now how long this moment will last, or even this lifetime. Life is so exhausting and full, joyful and tedious, calm and busy. I am doing my best to be present in it all.