Photo: My mother’s porch, usually a pleasant place, covered in snow. There are a lot of fabric textiles out there that weren’t brought in. Dunno how please she is going to be to see that… but I’m not responsible!
My Quiet Thoughts are almost muted this week–I’m mentally and physically exhausted. Ursa Minor has had me up at 4am yesterday and today, I’ve been worried about my husband braving this weather (Massachusetts had a wind chill of -25 degrees Fahrenheit last night and this morning!), my parents are sick so they haven’t been helping with the babies, and despite the fact that I am very blessed to be in this warm and comfortable home, I still feel homeless. I thought that, by now, I’d feel more comfortable and hopeful but, alas, I don’t really.
Men are supposedly coming to the house tomorrow to do important work that will help put the house back together, freeing up all of the rooms of the house with the exception of the kitchen. I am praying that I’ll be able to move into my home with babies next Saturday depending on how this work looks and feels. I have to get Ursa Major to preschool next week. Thank God there was a snow day yesterday! His perfect attendance record still stands! Booyah!
To stay in the habit of being a good blogger, I’m posting, but I simply wish I had something profound to say. Here is what I learned this week:
1) Children are both resilient and fragile at the same time: While both of my little bears have been able to roll with the changes here, they still act out in little ways. They stop and look for their father, they throw things or break other rules, the want a lot of extra hugs and kisses and snuggles, they sleep and wake in funky hours… but when they find pockets of happy, it’s like we’re right back at home and everything is normal. My mother has commented multiple times about how resilient the boys are and how little they notice these changes we’ve gone through. But as mother sees the subtle changes, the little tells of anxiety. Especially in Ursa Minor, but with Ursa Major, too. I’m grateful, though, for the pockets of happy. I can’t help but light up when I see them laughing and learning and growing.
2) Despair is easy to slip into: I guess I’m a huge wimp. I haven’t shed any tears or anything, but I’ve felt heavy this week, just burdened. It has been so easy to let my mind go down the cascade of worst-case scenarios, feelings of failure, anticipation of more bad news… It takes energy to remain in control, remain positive, and construct productive moments. In the moments when I had little energy to give, the mind just went down the rabbit hole. I think that is where the ache and exhaustion is coming from: Climbing out of the hole I mentally fell in and keeping myself from falling into it again.
3) There is more good news than bad news: The majority of our struggle is over. There is a house not far from here that is mine. My children are warm on this very cold day, they want for nothing (save for their father), and they know that they are loved. My husband is able to work and monitor our home during this transition. And I guess the biggest blessing of all is that my mother lives here and has a big enough home to accommodate us to begin with. I really should not be so miserable. I’m the luckiest woman in the state right now.
On this cold day, I wish you warmth: In your home, car, office… and in your heart. I hope that you’ll do something kind for another person today including checking in on those neighbors who may need it when the weather turns bad like this. I hope you’ll indulge in something hot: soup, stew, coffee, chocolate… I hope that the first sip or spoonful brings a smile to your lips and the warmth spreads through your entirety. I hope that you have warm slippers or socks with funny patterns.. or even lovingly knitted by the hands of a loved-one. I hope you’ll cook something wonderful and fill your house with warmth and great smells. I hope you’ll spend a moment staring out the window appreciating just how beautiful and powerful Mother Nature is.
Until Monday. Take care.