What's going on with us?
Well I dragged myself out of bed, inches away from sleep, and am sitting in front of an obnoxiously bright monitor to tell you. Partly because it's been a while and if I don't write now it will go on being a while, mostly because my mom brought to my attention today that my lack of presence on social media looks like aloofness, and am I terminally ill and just not telling people, or what?
Nope. We're all healthy, and the fact that not even one of us has a cold is nothing short of a miracle.
We're hale, hearty, and reasonably happy*.
But we are cranking out days over here, and sometimes I plum forget there's anything else.
Because it goes like this:
The sun is up, there's sounds down the hall, greet the kids, Oliver is jumping in his crib with big eyes and Woggy smiles, Greta is talking about "finishing her dream" so won't you please pull the shade back down, it's getting the kids out of sticky wet things into clean dry things, 3 scrambled eggs, 4 pieces of toast, and 1,000 blueberries, listening to records, free play, Oliver climbs on things, I take him off of things, giant bottle of milk, he naps, quiet lunch with Greta "Shhh we're whispering!", sesame street, Greta swinging on the swing on her tummy, if it's hot it's a pool day, if it's not it's a craft day, Oliver has a finely diced banana at 2:00, errands or any excuse to be out where there is more coffee, Kent comes home, there's a change in command, dinner, gym, dishes, kids go to bed, and then Kent and I stare at each other and consider the silence, what does this mean? And what should we do with this time? This fragile gift? And what we do is really no ones business, but almost always there's more food. And eventually sleep, the sun is up, there's sounds down the hall...
It's so easy at times to get lost in this cycle. Like all there is in the world is our little family and the activities that go on in the tiny little framework we've made. The rest of the world could burn to the ground but I'm not sure I'd notice, we're cranking out days here, scrambling eggs, raising kids here.
And for the most part, I like what I see, so I don't always hurry to read the news, or peek my face out too far from the fence.
Some days, weeks...lately.
* Unless you count Greta's new infatuation with being sad on purpose. No Joke, Oliver picked up a ceramic votive holder thingy out of the cupboard and broke it on the tile floor, Greta's instantaneous reaction was to muster up some tears and cry "Oh noooo! I am really really really going to miss that...." And then she stops because she realizes that she had never seen that thing before, and doesn't even know what to call it. But don't worry, she will pine and lose sleep over it as if it was her only treasure.
