Our Home Life

I have been wanting to capture the feel of the rhythm of these days, but I continue to run out of time to gather my thoughts. My days are filled with navigating tantrums of a two-year old and somehow managing to sustain an infant. They are picking up the spilled bag of frozen corn for the tenth time, convincing my toddler he does in fact need a nap, changing spit-up off my clothes once again, while also maintaining a semblance of social life outside this home that we feel so bound to these days. 

We are home - we are all still home - for a time we never thought would last this long. Along with everyone else, I miss the normalcy of life and the activities we used to do. I miss Trader Joe's being our morning activity, where happy people offer samples. I miss the peace of mind to go out and have Jack touch everything without caring. I miss chatting with mom friends at the playground while Jack jumps on the bridge and asks me to sing "Apples and Bananas" in the swing. I miss events and activities and restaurants and leaving the house without a mask. It has been six months of Home, and I miss travel. 

There are also moments I soak in and want to last forever. Ford's tiny squishy waking up face that bursts into a smile when he sees me. After he feeds, he puts his tiny fists in the air as if to say "I did it!" and then when I burp him, he wraps them around my neck and buries his little nose into the crease of my neck. When we say "Hi buddy!" to Jack, he repeats it back without realizing we are referring to him. Some of his favorite phrases are "Hold you, momma," "Jack do it," "Another one book" and any truck name that comes to his mind (we laugh when he says "skid steer" "excavator" and "cherry picker" - it's just too cute). Sometimes I feel that life with these boys requires the kind of energy that only superhumans possess.

On our attempted road trip this past week (another story for another time), after being awake and driving for 17 hours, once Ben and I finally got Jack sleeping in the closet and Ford at the foot of our bed - there was a sigh of relief as we both acknowledged the craziness of these days, and also laughter because who attempts a roadtrip with a newborn and a toddler?! (Ben is definitely a superhuman!)

In this moment, Jack is screaming from his crib, so I must attend to him. This is life these days. Short segments of time to regain the strength to do it all again.

A picture before Ford fell over

This little guy smiles all day long

La Jolla: Realizing we don't need to leave home for a vacation

34 is

-learning from this time of pause. Learning presence, appreciation of the simple things, and finding rest.

- spit up on the shoulder, breastmilk everywhere, and endless loads of laundry.

- figuring out how to discipline a two-year old while attending to a infant while battling my eyes wanting to close over and over again.

- facemasks, global uncertainty, sometimes fear, but trying to trust.

- recognizing the gifts of the everyday. Remembering that what I have now is all I have ever wished for.

- growing with Ben. Learning how to be parents to two. Finding time together on the patio for an after-dinner-post-bedtime drink, playing cards, and watching videos of our talkative little Jack.

- noticing wrinkles around the face and getting on a new skincare regimen.

- coffee in the morning, iced latte in the afternoon,  always an extra shot when I get the chance.

- community. Leading a community group and doing life together with neighbors in Clairemont. Raising littles, digging into our marriage, and googling everything in-between.

- gathering around our new table Ben recently made and finding a new flow in our home.

- trying to stay off social media. Nothing very good comes from it.

- a confidence and identity in my role as Mother. Feeling deeply grateful for this calling and my two little guys.

- embracing the body that has done the miracle work of birthing two children and carried me for 34 years. It has changed and evolved. It is magic. 

- overwhelming and chaotic. Finding new ways to get alone time and recharge. Solo mornings with Ben sometimes happen and sometimes don't - but when they do, I feel more connected and alive.

- singing Police Car on repeat and going to sleep with Blippi songs cycling through my head.

- making goals to accept the Today. Not wish it different or change it any way, but acknowledge that this is Life Right Now and it is challenging, but transformative. The story I write now is the story I will write someday. It is all connected and it is all part of growing up. It is a continual journey of growth.