I’ve gotten out of the habit of writing, and been out of energy for it. A was away for over two weeks, and during that time I gradually wore down my reserves: up many times a night with a teething Iris, plus awake in the 5 o’clock hour every morning. This left me not exactly tired, but with the sense of having basically nothing left for anything but getting through each day. That sense is lingering, actually, and it takes every bit of optimism I can muster to believe that some day I will like this again and will feel I’m doing something useful rather than just keep us all safely standing in one place.
My parents were here for about a week of A’s absence, and they are rock stars. My dad built three giant raised garden beds. My mom helped with every step of the daily grind, from the sublime (the girls giggling together about their very own game of peek-a-boo) to the horrid (awful hours with Ingrid that left me, during nap time, weeping and grousing, “Why did no one tell me having kids would be like this?”)
I contracted pink eye. It wasn’t too uncomfortable, and it felt appropriate to look red-eyed and gooey, like I finally looked as exhausted as I felt.
A is back; we have weathered the usual reentry shock. We’ve figured out that our mornings suck when I sleep in, and that it goes more smoothly when we are all up early and groggy together and have a chance to adjust to the day at once rather than me stumbling down the stairs and getting slammed with tantruming wide awake girls desperate for mama time.
Oh, and we found out that Ingrid’s day care is most likely closing in the fall. The director is selling her house (where the day care is hosted) and moving away, for personal reasons. This after I told the terrific preschool to give our spot to someone on the waiting list because we are oh so happy with what we have. There is still some ghost of a chance that the families and teachers will be able to pull something together to keep it going at a different location, but over all it is a pretty sucky development.
I planted the garden with tomatoes (weirdly leggy, most of them), basil, broccoli, cauliflower, cucumbers, winter squash, peppers, beets, radishes, and a ton of herbs. It’s been raining and raining and warm but without much sun, and the idea that things will bloom and produce things we can eat seems rather theoretical. The allium is blooming, though, which is lovely.
I am working on a few posts for this week. More soon.