Just Keep Swimming, Just Keep Swimming, Just Keep Swimming, Swimming, Swimming....

Hi.

I'm still here.  Remember me?

Things here are finally- well, I was going to say "slowing down," but I'm certain that isn't actually true.  I guess a better way to describe it is that I'm finally catching up.  It's hard to describe, but I feel like I spent all fall barely holding my head above water as I flailed.  And the winter catching my breath.  And then, I found myself treading water- not very confidently (do we ever reach that point as mothers?), but no longer half a breath from drowning.

Logistically, the fall was hard.  Etta was learning to walk, still nursing frequently, and wanting to be held constantly.  Tye was expanding her play repertoire and needing frequent support, learning to deal with really, really big emotions, and testing boundaries, both physical and parental.  Perhaps most stressful was Tye learning to safely interact with a newly mobile sibling.  Some days, I considered myself successful as a parent if both girls just made it through the day alive.

 On those days, I had to prioritize, and any activities that weren't necessary for survival took the back burner.  And most days, my back burners were off, diverting all possible energy to whatever emergency was at hand.  And then, slowly but surely, this magical thing happened.

The girls started to play. Together.  

 Tye reached an easier phase of 3 (the calm before the storm of 3 1/2, but that's another story).  Etta learned to explore safely and truly play.  Sometimes, long chunks of time would pass with the girls both peacefully playing in their bedroom.  Between the doll house, the dress up clothes, the baby dolls, and the books. they can entertain themselves long enough for me to actually finish not just one task, but three or four.  It's life-altering.

 As wonderful as those chunks of time are, the biggest difference in day-to-day life is the more relaxed pace.  Perhaps we've just finally found our rhythm, or maybe we're in a temporary lull, but whatever it is, my mind is calmer.  I can actually complete thoughts, and not just survival-type thoughts, but higher-level thoughts.  I find myself reflecting- on mothering, on childhood, on growing and developing, on sibling relationships.

 When I start connecting all these dots, all I want to do is write it all out, get it in type, and hope that maybe the process will cultivate an even deeper level of understanding.  Writing is an opportunity to study my own life.  It is therapeutic and cathartic and most of all, revealing.

And I really, really miss it.

So I'm returning.  I can't promise regular posts, but I can assure you I'll be around to share.  You'll get to see more of this.

 And this.

And if you feel like it, read more of my rambling.  Because as it turns out, Mama Em can swim.