Thursday, August 11, 2016

Piles of words to write and clothes to pack.

If I had to sum up this stage of my life in one word, it might be Piles.

Piles of children. Piles of toys. Piles of dishes and laundry. Piles of books we've read and books we haven't and books that are due back at the library. Piles of things I began but haven't finished. Piles of things I never quite seem to find the time to start at all.

I've officially reached the point in my unscheduled blogging silence where it seems like more of an imposition to write than not to write. I'm out of the habit of writing, so when the urge strikes, I usually talk myself out of it. There is so much I haven't written here. There are so many things I haven't shared. I feel totally out of the loop...almost as if it is impossible to begin again. Whatever I say, it won't be enough.

I've also reached the point in the packing process for our upcoming trip where the organizing and sorting I have done actually seems to have made things worse.


It's the ultimate moment of self-doubt for the intrepid family traveler- right now, my brain tells me that even if I somehow manage to finish packing, there is no way that this stuff will fit in our van.

(Does that happen to you, too?)

It's been a tough day for my children (who always seem to pick the days when I have something to accomplish that doesn't directly involve them to be at their neediest). It's a direct correlation- the less focused I am on them, the more they act out. I know this, and I should have expected the bumpy day we've had. Somehow, though, I always just hope that this time will be different (and am even a little surprised when it isn't).

I've hollered way too much today about things that aren't really I finally gave up and turned on the television for them. They're all watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, and it is the happiest the house has felt all day. I should be packing. Instead, I'm hiding in the bathroom with my computer and remembering how much better I feel when I type words out instead of letting them build up screechy and irritable inside me.

Here's what I know, though- it's worth it. Taking a trip as a family is worth it. It takes a huge effort to get everything ready to transport our chaos to another location. It takes hard work to make that new place toddler proof and set it up the way we need it to be. Once we're there, though, something almost magical happens. Things get easier. Sure, people might still be cranky or underslept, just like they'd be if we were at home staying up too late to watch the Olympics again...but being in a different place changes things. We look at each other differently. We have less stuff to distract us. We enjoy even ordinary things (like the same breakfast cereal we always have) in new ways. We laugh more and play more games. The adventure is never perfect, but it is always worth the effort.

Maybe blogging is that way, too. Instead of worrying about how I don't have time to write the perfect post that will catch you up on everything that has happened the past few months, I'm just going to take a few minutes here and there to put some thoughts down here. It's the only way I know to get back into the groove, which I badly want to do.

It will have to be enough for now.