This week. Meh. It was one of those. When I can say TGIF and mean it you know it's been a long one. The rest of my family is asleep this morning - after a really restless night of us all in one bed - snot abounds - and it's late and I'm just going to let them snore for awhile longer while I dump out my brain and hope.
Last night I just kind of hit my limit. Poor Guthrie. Sweet girl who has all of a sudden grown up by leaps and bounds and maturity(!) had an evening like I have not seen in awhile and after running through my 'settle down and breathe mama or you're going to lose it' mantra approximately 80 times I apparently chose to return her favor of emotionally vomiting all over me. Except it didn't feel like a choice. I was distinctly out of control and I've kind of been all week. Only this morning I feel crappy about it whereas all week? Not so much. Which is why I feel like I hit my peak; self-reflection doesn't often happen in the midst of it all.
And we won't even talk about Laithe. Dude is in that toddler realm, that special time between 18 and 24 months when every day you don't contemplate selling him to the zoo 100 times is a good day. Hoo boy.
This parenting shit is hard. If I could parent in a vacuum it would still be hard.
I decided - after G and I freaked out at each other - to make risotto. It's such a comfort food for our little family. This time I made it with bacon and pumpkin. It was stellar I have to say. The way I make it is the one ladle at a time method, I know there are other ways out there, but this one is the most therapeutic for me. I love that after a day that has lost all it's comforting rhythms I can find my rhythm again in stirring and adding and stirring and adding.
I also find that risotto is a yardstick. No other dish I make requires my presence as constantly and so my household needs to be a certain amount of able-to-fend-for-themselves. There was no risotto when Guthrie was a toddler, there was no risotto during that newborn blur, none when Laithe was learning to walk and could take the baby gate down on his own to climb the stairs. You can see why I sometimes use it as a test to see what season this family is in - at least for the week.
And so, everyone kept themselves mostly busy and I was able to take my 22 minutes and use it to find my center again.
Which is not to say I wasn't cranky and raw for the rest of the evening, because I was, and bedtime in particular was a challenge. But, we still all piled in Guthrie's room and read our chapter of Boxcar Children and everyone eventually fell asleep.
Until like 1:30, but whatever. It was not a shock for Guthrie to climb into our bed crying after such an emotional evening. I can always choose to be thankful for the predictability if nothing else, right?
This morning I got up as the sun was rising I watched it as I made coffee. And enjoyed the hoar frost- which is not something we get here this time of year. In fact it may not be a hoar frost, but it sure looked like it. I was grateful for the quiet and my ability to block out the billion things I feel like I have to do today and realize that really all I need to do is be present to my life today and mindful of my limits.
Happy Friday- I hope you have a beautiful one.