The wintry storm that came and disrupted spring is still carrying on outside. Inside is much the same; convalescing, fighting, squealing and boredom stirred together with a pinch of fed-up and a good dose of overwhelm.
When your children are young it's easy to feel like your catapulted from one stage to the next. When I sense that we're on the cusp of change I muster all my patience and awareness and brace myself for the necessary adjustment; mothering little ones requires such enormous amounts of adaptability. Am I adaptable? Yes, but it's not always pretty and more often than not, I settle into a new stage only after resistance.
These past few weeks have been a bit of a struggle, to tell you the truth. And now that I'm well and truly past the mess of it I can see that actually, there was a lot was going on. It's been three-and-a-bit weeks since Poet's operation and while she powered through her recovery with courage and minimal complaints, her exhaustion has been evident. At around the same time Percy started eating solids and whilst he has devoured every crumb of every meal I've presented to him, I'm shocked (yet again) of the time-consuming nature of food and babies - so much mess, so much washing, so much time walking circles in the kitchen. The onset of school holidays coupled with torrential rain, Daniel working away and a slew of editorial deadlines has had me juggling like I've never done before. And yesterday the drama reached its peak when Percy fell off the bed because a certain little someone thought it would be a good idea to make a cubby house from all the pillows that were keeping him from rolling over. Thankfully he's absolutely fine but oh, my nerves.
In the midst of this recent struggle I've gone to and fro between being ok with it all and teetering on the edge of thinking that this really is complete and utter madness. Mother hormones and the all-day-every-day of life with small children can be a vicious combination. And while it's difficult to find perspective when you're worn down and stressed there are those moments that make it all ok; a break in the weather and a walk outside, baby giggles, a story completed, tea and chocolate, soundly sleeping children, Elizabeth Gilbert's take on fear and creativity - little things peppered throughout the chaos of the day that, ultimately, keep you chug, chug, chugging.
I try not to dwell on the slog of parenthood but acknowledging it exists is important.