To the people I care about, but haven’t been able to show it lately:

   Thank you and I’m sorry. By lately, I mean the last almost three years. They’ve been the hardest of my life. I am constantly on the verge of drowning, losing it, falling apart, etc. There really isn’t anything anyone can do to help me, except not expect anything of me. I apologize for the missed birthdays, for the lack of Christmas cards and even presents. I thank you sincerely for sending me thoughts and gifts. I feel truly awful I haven’t been able to get my act together to reciprocate. It isn’t b/c I don’t love you. It isn’t because I don’t want to send you an amazing thought out gift. I do want to do that, I do love you. I do want you to know I care, I remember. 

   To those who've met me lately - I swear I am not by nature a bitter or angry person. I don't like that about me right now either. 

    I am in constant anticipation of this period of my life coming to an end and getting to re-engage with the world. I am dying to have more left to give not just to you, but also to my family, my husband and kids. Survival has been the name of the game for a while now. Sometimes we get to thrive for a patch, but mostly I am hanging on by my fingernails praying nothing else gives and then it does. 

   I know that the circumstances that have created this season in life will most certainly come to an end - even though at this moment I find that hard to believe. I know there is light at the end of the tunnel, even if I can’t see it yet. I know the snow will melt, the flowers will bloom, and the sun will come up tomorrow. 

   The reason I haven’t been able to keep in touch is because when you ask me how I am, the only answer I can give is “fine” or “alive” or “making it”. And I don’t want to elaborate because honestly to explain to most people the most recent slap in the face from the universe would be more frustrating than its worth b/c it would still not leave you understanding why it sucks so badly. Also, to give you a full sense of where I am, I’d have to give you a short history, and honestly it would just sound like I’m whining or complaining or even making it up. 

   I can’t explain how I’m feeling without having to feel it. I can’t stay on the tightrope I am currently required to walk if I have to look down or around or anywhere but the next step in front of me or the far off distant future full of possibility. I feel my pain very acutely, but I can’t share it for fear it will consume me if I let it out of its little box. 

  I am attempting to bloom where I am planted. For now, I might be a bulb that doesn’t come up this year but I’m busy building deeper roots for the future, at least I hope. 

Death of a Dust Bunny

   Ah motherhood. What a joy you are. And the single motherhood inflicted by your spouse traveling for work, delightful. I have just this evening murdered some very old dust bunnies from behind my sofa, which hasn’t moved since we moved in over two years ago. (I told you they were old.) 

   Our living room had become impassable. I don’t mean if you picked your way across it you could maybe find a path to the other side. I mean layers of stuff. The sofa (the dusty bunny sanctuary) had no cushions or throw pillows or throw blankets on it. The toy chest full of stuffed animals was empty. Actually - almost all the containers of toys in that room were remarkably bare. If adults were responsible for this level of mess, it would have taken weeks for it to get this bad, maybe even months. Instead the responsibility lies squarely on the shoulders of a 2 and 4 year old, so it took five minutes. 

  We worked together and ‘cleaned’ it up. It felt great. I looked around, felt internal calm, and then I got up to go throw the box (yes I said box) of trash away. I passed through the ‘dining room’ (read eating and art’ing and activity and lego and puzzle area). Then I entered the kitchen. I washed the cup to give the toddler her milk before bed and took them to get baths. I was so disheartened upon my return downstairs to murder dust bunnies, that after my homicidal urges were exhausted, I put the vacuum away. Feeling defeated by mess, I am now in PJ’s in bed, writing a blog, debating which movie I should watch on Netflix or Amazon Prime. 

     So be encouraged cyber world of mommies (and daddies). You are not alone. I should note, I feel absolutely no guilt for calling it a night at 8:50 pm. My children were taught, loved, hugged, cuddled, fed, engaged, and bathed today. Not to mention the dusty bunny homicides. All together,  a successful day.