Catching My Breath

I could write out a "to do" list a hundred different ways, and I have, but the INFP in me doesn't jive with structure on default repeat.

Some days I tackle the basics. Other days, I do less and just hug and kiss my babies and read chapter after chapter after chapter plus all the picture books on every surface in the living room.  Other days, like when I was blogging about painting the bathroom & laundry room, I drink a lot of coffee and attempt to do all the things.

Today was a declared Guilt Crusher holiday.  Ever have one? They're fabulous.  It's simple.  Think of the thing you keep feeling nagged by and would rather throw yourself into a blazing fire or play Bill Murry in Groundhog's Day than do.  Then you do that thing.

My thing was this:


That's right! Updating baby books...that were about 1% completed before today's blitz.

I dove right in and found myself coming alive with each little memory tucking in between these covers.  I was scribbling details on loose leaf to piece together ideas, making lists, writing in little stories that made me smile, dropping pics in my "to print" folder, and pulling my hair out at the devastating lack of organization that is my photo storage.

Recalling everything from finding out we were pregnant (2nd pregnancy) to the 1st ultrasound and 1st heartbeat check and finding out the one was two and then our trip to CA and reading all those crazy books about multiples and making the leap to be a SAHM and prep and more prep and then their arrival and the crazy happiness and the crazy highs (higher than back alley drugs) and then an exhaustion that would make he who shall not be named shudder and the 1st circle of hell transitioning into a family of 5 and the hundred other things that is just normal life scattered in between and on and on and OH MY GOSH!! This past year has been so insanely intense. Intense. So intense.  And there's all those things I can't share with you because even the gushiest girl likes to keep a sliver of privacy.  Physically intense. Emotionally intense. Spiritually intense. So. Very. Intense.

I caught my breath today. I wrote and I smiled and I remembered all the things and I caught my breath.

No matter what I do, I'm always consumed by this hunger to do more and be more and stretch my skills and time and hopes for this big, big tomorrow. I've been "rested" for a few months now since the boys are mostly sleeping through the night, but really I went right from recovering and adjusting to being a SAHM to sketching out all the next things: dabbling with homeschooling, finding...err...mommy friends (what? I'm an introvert! that's a huge undertaking), planning the garden, writing out the huge list I shared with you, and so much more.  I love living big and pushing myself, but crap. Sometimes you just need to take a step back and say it. Put a name on highlights of the past. That was good. That pushed me to the edge. That was one wild ride.  That looked like a keg of beer on my front side.


I need more of this: writing, journaling, walking (without Pandora filling up the quiet), using little corners of my time to document the things that had me laughing, hoping, worried, and soaring with joy. Mostly, I need to remember that I am capable of far more than I would like to think, that working really hard and reaping the rewards is one of the best experiences this world offers, I am no island (and acting like that is just plain dumb), my husband is my hero like you wouldn't even know, and don't wait eight months in between baby book updates. Just don't. Or else running to your blog to escape the emotional tsunami.