A morning snapshot

 When I was in therapy for losing 4 unborn babies in a row and after I was blessed with my miracle baby, I was talking about how guilty I feel for being completely and utterly in love with my child but also being totally and relentlessly exhausted because of my child. The therapist very wisely said "Is it so inconceivable that the thing that you love most in the world makes you the most tired that you've ever been in your life? I thought that was a very sensible thing to say, and I dropped my feeling of guilt right there and then. About that at least. 

What I did not know then, is that the level of tiredness I felt from my child then was laughable compared to what it is now. Maybe I am just a tired person, or maybe my child has the energy and brightness of a thousand suns.

A few nights ago, I had a dream that I was in heaven. I was still on the earth and could walk amongst people, but I could walk on the water above their heads and the people could not see me. All I remember is that I was crying the entire time I was there, and that I realised that heaven, my heaven, was a place where there was no worry and no fear and no guilt. I just cried and cried and cried, I suppose with relief.

That is kind of an aside to what this post is about, but I needed to say it. I would so love to be free of worry. 

The summer is definitely a roller coaster with young children. If I don't plan each hour of each day and we stay at home, the day becomes unbearable, not just for me, but for Pickle and for my husband. Yesterday was one of those days. I won't go into details. IYKYK.

This morning (the real reason for this post) went like this; she woke up at 6:45, after having gone to bed at 9:30, and started playiing with her new (charity store) kitty unicorn ball whose eyes light up with a demonic, gremlins kind of vibe and because Daddy, in a moment of misguided helpfulness, replaced its batteries, the creepy kittycorn talks and sings loudly to whoever happens to have the misfortune to be in earshot. This went on for a while and then I went and made her a smoothie while she dressed herself in the most inappropriately warm clothes she could find, to go to summer dance class on one of the hottest days of the year. She then proceeded to run around our upstairs and made houses for her toys, beds for her kittycorn, and other fabulously imaginative creations. I literally sat there, in my dressing gown, on the couch with a coffee, just staring at her, eyes glazed over, for 20 minutes while she made more wonderful messes than I could if I was paid to.

A long time ago, before I even met my husband, my friend Travis asked me to babysit his children, who were 5 and 7 at the time. I said to him, "but what do I do with them? What do YOU do with them?" to which he replied "I sit on the couch, and stare at them, bleary-eyed." I laughed so much then. I'm not laughing now. I couldn't put it any better.

In the car on the way to the summer camp, I answered questions for 20 minutes straight about what Moana wears, sleeps under, how to get fur off animals without hurting them, whether lions' hair around their faces grow back when you cut it off, whether lizards' tails will grow back when cut off and whether squirrels' tails will grow back if cut off. After dropoff, I slumped into my car, dragged myself to the coffee shop, drained a coffee then another, and am considering one last one of the morning before I shuffle, bleary eyed, to the car to pick up my talkative, wondrously imaginative, endlessly curious little Pickle for a very very interesting afternoon. 

Thanks for reading x