Catching my breath

I was reminiscing about some old posts this week. (Yes, it's old posts I reminisce about. The reason I write so much is because to me nothing is real until it's been turned into words.) Especially this one, written shortly after D2 was born, and this one, written shortly after we moved.

And you know what? Things are better, even after just a few months.

Not a great deal better, I grant you. I'm sure if you dropped QOC from 2001 into this life, she would, after asking, "I'm married to WHO?" find it completely exhausting and overwhelming. But I've adapted somewhat. My brain has grown. Or perhaps I've lost it altogether. Either way, things don't seem to move so fast anymore.

There's a little bit of rhythm to the day. Eat, chores, park, eat, nap, chores, eat. The stuff we actually use is unpacked and put away. The children can't eat off the floor, because the food gets swept up reasonably soon.

The kids have grown--just a little bit, but they've grown. D1 doesn't trip and fall down so often. With a little boost, she can get into the car and car seat on her own, so I don't have to leave one of them outside while I put the other one in the car. D2 can sit up in the shopping cart for most of the trip. He still eats frequently, but occasionally comes up for air these days.

We still have our moments when everyone is wailing at once. (I think D1 has settled on "whining" as her Interesting Toddler Behavior.) But not so many of them. D1 and D2 can even play together happily in her room for fifteen minutes while I vaccuum. It's a beautiful thing.

Not, of course, that we're immune from everything going haywire again. I may as well enjoy this while it lasts.