I am sitting in a coffee shop listening to light-hearted, drifty music. I am drinking coffee and trying to work, but keep getting carried away with the music in the background. It seems to seep into my thoughts and take over without my even realizing it. I love this feeling – the dreamy ‘not quite here, not quite gone’ state of mind you get early in the morning when it is quiet out, or when you hear a song from the past, or drive through an area that you once knew so well. It is familiar and comforting and…and…enough. I am not worried about anything. I am not stressed. I just – am. I like that.
Lets just assume that every entry I write begins with “I am so busy” and then I won’t have to type it anymore. Mmmmkay? Good. Moving on…
Roark waved and said bye-bye today. My heart melted. I now have a giant puddle of goo where it used to be.
Both of the boys are walking now. Cole prefers it to crawling… Roark is not so sure. He still crawls most of the time but will occasionally walk and then look around for us to clap and yell “yeahhhhhh!!” He loves the attention, but I am not so sure he loves the walking. I love the walking – seeing them toddle around like drunks cracks me up. I like how they are starting to act and look like little boys instead of babies. Progress is good.
I am sure this is only because I am their mom - but WOW they are cute. Every little manerism and gesture grabs me by the heart and makes me want to stop their growth and advancement and freeze everything right now. The changes are coming so fast that I can't keep track and I can't slow down anything long enough to really enjoy it. Do you ever feel that way?
As far ask talking goes, neither one says much. We have caught them repeating a few things, but most of the time they just jabber. They love to climb – ANYTHING. And as a result we have had to move much of the furniture out of the living room There was a rocking chair that they kept climbing on – gone. Then there was the ottoman, which they would push around the room until it was next to something big and tall – which they would use to climb higher – gone. Then there were various toys that they would climb on – gone, gone, and gone. Little monsters…
I’m busy. So very busy. Was out of town from Sunday – Wednesday for work. Was too tired to function yesterday and am trying to read 590 billion emails today. So there is that. We at least have that.
The boys are growing every day (wow – what a surprise – shut up). Cole is walking a lot. Roark is continually looking at him like he is crazy. Roark likes to climb and Cole – not so much. Roark likes to repeat things we say like “duck” “I do it” “daddy” “mamma” “butt” – and so on. Cole – not so much. They are fun, and silly, and becoming more independent every day. There is never enough time to spend with them and I always feel pulled in a million different directions….
I am sitting on the floor pretending to be playing with you, when in reality I am just trying to watch TV and let my mind wander. I catch a glimpse of you out of the corner of my eye and notice that you are much higher in my line of vision than you should be – by at least 2 feet. I turn my head and see that you are standing on the toy box and are leaning against the window. I have no idea how you got up there, but am torn between pride at your amazing climbing skills and fear at how injured you could become if I startle you, causing you to fall. As I approach you, your face lights up and your smile spreads from ear-to-ear. You are quite proud of your accomplishment, and although irritated by your sense of adventure, I am a little amused myself. I then spend the next 20 minutes taking you off of that god-forsaken toy box. Over and over again.
Within minutes of convincing you that the toy box is a “no-no” you take up the task of climbing onto the ottoman which is pushed up against the door to the entertainment center. This was of course placed here to prevent you from repeatedly banging the door against the wall. I would love to say that you don’t know what you are doing is wrong, however you have blown your cover by shaking your head “no-no” style the whole time you are climbing. You know that what you are doing is wrong – you just don’t care. Admittedly, it is pretty cute. During all of this Cole would watch you and listen to me. When I would tell you “no”, Cole would shake his head. At one point, the routine was so familiar that he actually looked at you and said “no”. Now that. Was funny.
I will remember
Is it true that the older you get the harder it is to remember things? I ask because I honestly think there must be some truth to this. I can try to force myself to remember something – a phone number, a clip of a conversation, the way a picture looks, an important date or meeting – and only moments later it is completely gone from my head as if it never actually existed. What is that all about? I swear I used to remember anything I set my mind to. I could memorize plays, long speeches, dates, times, places. I could recall the most useless of information without hardly a strain. Now? Not so much. I am surprised I remember my address or phone number. Or how to get home from work. I just feel the memories and ability to remember slipping away. Is this normal or is there something wrong with me?
It has been a hellish week. Work is killing me. I constantly feel one step behind and a few brain-cells short of accomplishing anything. Do you ever have weeks like that? No matter what I do there is always a new crisis and I don’t have the slightest idea how to fix it. This is wearing me down.
I spend a lot of time thinking of wonderful things to write about my life: my husband, my kids. And then I walk in the office and *poof* am consumed by the wild pack of dogs known as my colleagues – and every nerve of my being is taxed and beaten into submission. By the time I get home it is all I can do to hold my boys and play with them without breaking down into a sobbing mess, or drink myself incoherent. I need to find the light at the end of the tunnel.
My girls have been gone for a week and it feels like forever since I have seen them. They are at the beach with their dad, and although I know they are having a wonderful time, I miss them fiercely. I wish June were just approaching and I had the whole month with them to look forward to. I wish they were with me all the time.
And, based on my week - I also wish that I were a stay home mom.
A lot has happened in the past week.
I went out of town for work. To
I came home from out of town tired – from all the working and drinking.
We then went to my husband’s dad house for most of the weekend, where we practiced telling the boys “no” and “no no”, “no, no, no" and "Damn it! I said no”.
They do not have any baby-proofing going on there, since all of their kids are grown up and gone and they don’t enjoy the esthetic value of baby locks and gates. Which, I totally don’t blame them for. But – this meant that my husband and I spent much time chasing babies and closing cabinets and moving lamps, and picking up plants, and, and, and …oh just recounting it makes me tired. So very tired.
We then came home and crashed and burned last night only to get up this morning facing work. Work sucks.