Life in general has been going pretty well, in spite of toddlers who have decided they don't want to sleep for part of the night. We've had visits with friends, help around the house, books, more visits, people spontaneously over for dinner (six extra people in the last two days! Exciting!). Visiting friend learning Thai massage and wanting to practice (any time is fine with me). Friends coming to give us homemade jam and pickles in exchange for sour cherry delivery (cracking open the jam today, Isabelle).We've taken a short break from trying to wrangle my parents into anything, and from constant crisis mode, and what I've discovered is that the panic was (unsurprisingly) covering a deep and constant feeling of sadness, almost a detached emotion. It's always there, if I think about it, and it's not depression, it's just awareness of grief and responsibility.
I'm glad to have become conscious of it. The next, more complicated part, is to figure out what to do about it. I want to say, and maybe should say, Take it easy, Don't push myself, Give myself time, but the general reality of life is that I can't most of the time, and I'm trying not to be resentful or martytrish about that. I have minutes and sometimes whole half-hours of relative quiet, but I'm still here with all the small ones, and they need and deserve my attention. There are a thousand crisis and patience-testing incidents a day (no one should ever have to potty train twins. It is wrong), with Nat going through some big independence spurt that means lots of yelling, the girls peeing on everything, and Thomas reluctantly assuming his position as Big Enough To Put His Own Shoes On And Dress Himself. So I'm not sure. I'm praying and trying to be aware that I still need to do things even when I am just sad and want to sit, and I'm trying to figure out a middle way between lots of self-care and my very real very loud responsibilities.