Tuesday, August 26, 2014
This Full Plate.
This is a new season of our life, and a busy one at that. I'm not someone who ever wants to wear busyness like a badge- I've seen that and I don't want it. But this kind of busy is a good one, it's full of our family and new work and lots of change, extra bedrooms in our home now occupied by people we love. Our mornings are full of Hank and the boys and my sister and Lucy and soon Abe, all of us moving through that first hour getting things done, chugging along in our little orbits. This little bit of time we're experiencing together will be one of those parts of life I'll look back on with such fondness, I'm sure of it. And with all of that comes new work for me too, keeping me busy, busy, busy.
I've been thinking so much about how precious all of these parts of our life are. We only get this many summers with our children this age, one really at this age, and so when I think about that then I feel fiercely protective over these seconds and minutes and hours. This afternoon itself is so precious. I never feel like I need to do big, grand things, but I am well aware that this is the one August 26th I'll ever get with my boys at almost four and one. So even if we're hunkered down on the couch, a movie on because the monsoon outside our window is darkening the sky by the minute I'll cherish that simple little bit, because that's all I will ever get of this day, these people, right here just the way it is.
As Henry grows bigger and into this new older person, I'm learning that the part of me that gets so sad over change is actually beginning to see that although yes, there is sadness, there is much more excitement there. All the good to come, the new adventures, the next. So maybe this is me growing more myself; maybe I'm learning to let life continue on its way, and I'm beginning to be able to enjoy the ride a bit more.
I started writing a post last week after I realized this blog would be turning six years old this fall. It's interesting that this site has become one of the biggest teachers in my life...it feels weird to even type that out. But this post I've been adding things to here and there feels never ending. All the things I've learned, the mistakes I've made, it's fascinating to me in a slightly distant, self-centered way. My early days of what feels like humblebragging when I read my words now, getting angry over rude, anonymous commenters, actually seeking out negative things about myself online and then talking about them here...cringe worthy to read back and see where my focus was. Laughable now, but in those words I can still feel those first stinging lessons and see myself learning how to navigate criticism. But that's growing up documenting your life on a website. Some people grow up at 18, some at 25, but for me I feel like maybe it was around 28 I started to really get it. That seems late, and maybe it has something to do with becoming a parent, but it's clear to me as I look back at everything that that was it for me. And oh, so many of those posts- they make me laugh, smile, feel slightly embarrassed, but at the end of the day I'm so goddamn proud of every one of them and slightly in awe that I've been doing this for so long. Diaryland then Livejournal before this, and all together we have well over a decade of it. Very, very neat when I take a big step back. And even cooler to be able to look and see myself changing and growing, and have it all in one place.
So here I am, at 32. A mom of two boys, more of a work from home mama than a stay at home mama these days. Add on taking care of my niece while my sister is teaching and it's a full plate. But sometimes in life that's just what we have- there have been times where my plate wasn't full, and I was searching to find what belonged. And there have been other times where I've found it overflowing, but with all the wrong things. It's a good feeling to be able to look and say "yes, this is just right," and enjoy that full plate, full of the best things- love and family and growth and change, and a special kind of busyness that makes everything sparkle with fulfillment.