So many entries have been in the making, only to be discarded. What to share, especially after a long absence? That life has changed? Well, it has, as it tends to do.
I am no longer a home-dweller. In fact, sometimes it feels like I live at my office. I love certain aspects of it. The "freedom" of walking to work alone, headphones on....no need to lift heavy strollers with restless children. It sounds awful, but I am starting to cut myself some slack in the guilt-department.
We still feel aimless sometimes. Most of the time. Life is a dense jungle of thoughts, hopes, expectations. Just trying to figure out how to really cope with life and all of its depths and simplicities is a headache. If only we weren´t so intense about it all. I married a guy who is so fundamentally different, personality-wise, but we share the wretched idealism I so often rant about. Why wretched? Mainly, because we can´t lighten up (about life). Everything overwhelms us these days. Balancing family-life with work, with personal time, with dreams.
Sometimes our mess* embarasses me. (*the chaos of our daily life) But then I´m reminded of how normal we are. Maybe we just put it all out there more than others. Sometimes I get the impression that we live under a magnifying glass. We are clueless about a lot of things, and we let everyone know. In search of some guidance, perhaps. Looking for tips on how to do this thing right.
The kids are alright. Great, actually. (I just thought of that song-title). They´re changing too fast, of course. Our pixie is learning to speak Spanish now. "Eso no se hace," "¡Qué frio!", and so forth. It is remarkable, but it hasn´t been easy. She bites her nails now, to my despair. Life has been stressful for her. The adjustment to school, to a new house, to a new sister. As much as I try to make things easier for her, I can´t help but feel burdened by the fact that we haven´t given her a simple life. And the gnome. Well, she is just lovely. She follows us around in the house, crawling, and reaching out for us to pick her up.
Anyhow, as I was saying, I wonder how we affect the kids. We, with our wander(&wonder)lust, our endless thinking and re-thinking. Where to? How? We are little Thoreaus, and I wonder if our children will be the same. If they will feel the need to live differently, as well. Part of me hopes that they´ll learn to be content just to live a "normal" life, and not to always be plagued with this yearning for adventure. I´m making it a point to celebrate little things. When I walk to school with Ari, hand in hand...I try to help her notice the nice things on our path. Or maybe she teaches me. She still marvels at things. I want to recover that sense of appreciation for life in its smallest detail. To be thankful.
The more I struggle in my parenting, the more I learn about grace.
I often think of Philip Larkin´s poem, "This be the Verse," but then I remember that this vision of life & parenting is both true and untrue. Life is like that, isn´t it? Clearly, I have a lot left to figure out, but I´m leaning toward the more relativist spectrum.
Stepping into one´s own world of thoughts & beliefs is rather terrifying, but I am starting to see the value of the process. (I am rambling) Reading further complicates it. One starts out with a number of certainties ("well, at least I know that this is true!"), only to end up facing some sort of an existentialist crisis, because this is true, but then so is that..
It´s comforting to have a "kindred spirit," as Anne would put it, to wander alongside me.
"Not all those who wander are lost."
Alas, as we face these questions and doubts, we are learning more about what we do value and pursue. We are so profoundly fortunate to be where we are.
More later. It´s rainy outside. I think I´ll stand by the window for a little while.
