There is a playground close to Lincoln's preschool that we have visited a couple times. It's meant for 5-12 year olds, so I have to keep a close eye on him. More than that, I have to run after him with hands outstretched. The first thing he did there was fall backward off a platform. The kid can fall really well, though. That's one thing that he's always impressed us with. This place is full of climbing structures. I am eager to take Tyler there, so I can actually play, too! I climbed to the top of the playground's center boulder, and when I turned to go back down, I realized I couldn't see the footholds because of an underhang. I had that old rush, that old excitement. I do miss climbing. Another section is designed for traversing, and I got to hop on it for a few seconds at a time in between sliding and swinging.
Thank God this has been a gentle winter, because playing outside is essential to my happiness, and I don't mean to sound egotistical, but the truth is my happiness is essential to this family's survival! Last weekend I was having a rough time. Not for any particularly awful reason. Really, it's all about perspective. Earlier this evening, Tyler told me the saying, "An optimist says the glass is half full, the pessimist says it's half empty, but the engineer says the glass is twice as big as it needs to be." Sometimes I think how awesome my life is-- three sweet, beautiful children, a happy home, healthy family, a husband who listens to me, talks with me, and who is creating a future for us. Sometimes I think how trapped I am-- changing diapers, feeding, arranging naps, from morning to night, with no energy left at the end of the day to do anything for my own benefit. No exercising, writing, working-- the stuff that rounds out the now and builds a foundation for later. What am I going to do when these kids start school? I will have a degree that's years old and no experience using it. Not even a collection of personally published writing samples. And then I get alternately angry and dejected. Which means I do all of those tasks resentfully, creating an ugly vibe, making the sensitive kids cranky, me guilty, and so on. One big spiraling shit hole. Sometimes it makes more sense to be the engineer. Just figure out what works with what you've got. Balance. Balance is all I ask for, so I can smile and have a good day.
I find balance by:
~ Getting OUT. It's amazing how lost in the ecosystem of laundry, dishes, and clutter I can become without at least a breath of fresh air. Hey, there's a world outside that exists whether you clean or not! Lincoln's mood has always visibly heightened when we're outdoors. I'm not sure about the twins yet, but I'm hoping my whole crew is this way, so I'll always have a secret weapon against the grumps.
~ Sit. On the floor with Linc, pushing trains, building towers. On the couch with a baby on my lap. Give that time, again, free from the rushing, frantic clutter-clucking. I forget what this is all for if I don't look my children in the eyes, kiss their cheeks. It's so easy to make them smile.
~ Shower. It's a fight to get this done. I wonder about this one. Childbirth and subsequent breastfeeding are the most basic, down-to-earth
womanly things that only a
woman can do. Yet, I look in the mirror and think, "I just want to feel like a woman again!" (ie, with makeup done and hair styled!) Perception!
~ Think for the long haul. I have to tell you, I was devastated about my post-twin-tummy. It's a wrinkled, squishy mess. But it's only 8 months postpartum now, and I'm almost totally ok with it. I have realized that this is just a preview of aging. Eventually I'll be an entire wrinkled, squishy mess, so why not learn to live with it now? Gracefully, with a wry sense of humor and a great story to tell. Tyler's grandmother passed away shortly after we visited her one last time. Life is short, and yet so long. I keep wishing I had talked to her more, asking questions that maybe pressed boundaries. What does someone think about when they know they're at the end? What would they have changed, not about the events in their life, but about their thought processes? My friend Ami shared
an article written by someone who talked with people like this everyday. It's hard to imagine dying in my old age when I'm only 26. But when it happens, I don't want to look back and realize I wasted any part of my time, energy, money or love bemoaning this belly of mine. That's why I lift up my shirt a lot. Chances are, if you care enough about me to read this, I've probably shown you my belly. Please understand it's mostly self-therapy. The more accustomed and comfortable I get with it, the easier it is to move on. This is me now. Odd, but no big deal. :-)
There are other things I meant to say about balance. Other things I do. But now I'm tired. And a little distracted by the transformation depicted above. Like I said, I'm almost totally ok with it. I'm going to go drink some water, get ready for bed, read with my husband, sleep.