Everyday, all day, these kids are doing sweet and funny things, which I always think, 'I should so blog this!' And in the evening, after the now, between the two kids, running into 2 hour long bedtime routine and the toddler who wakes up at 4 am, and the preschooler, with homesickness, who now wakes up at 2 am, and The Man who snores loudly, damnit!, I'm just so happy to be awake enough to remember where the light switch is in this unfamilar place.
So, even though the children are continuing to display more then adequate amounts of curosity and intelligence, I have no cutsey stories for you tonight. I apologise for my antedotelessness. Just so you know, we continue to live much like we did before in our beautiful blue home. We read stories, go for walks, play, argue, craft, eat peanut butter and jam a bit too often, paint, tell stories, and watch movies. The kids and The Man get in my face and I get in theirs, and we should probably eat more vegetables. Same old, in a lot of ways.
Still, the differences overwhelm me. I'm feeling so very grateful for the salt water air, the sunsets over the mountains, the amazing old growth forests. All the lovely unfamilarity and profound beauty. It helps me focus on what is important. Through all of this, my healthy kids, my good man. It's good.
I try hard not to think of the other shoe. My garden variety mommy paranoia and the child-of-divorce legacy of waiting for the other shoe to drop. I hope the peacefullness of this inlet will mellow me. I walk beaches with measured steps and count my breaths. I take care to take in the good and let the bad flow on by.
I know, I'm starting to sound like a west coast hippie. I'll cut that out and try to actually write down the sweet things the kids do so I can report back later. Until then, sleep is needed. And perhaps some peanut butter and jam toast.