It seems the more I crave a rhythm to our days, the more it eludes me.
There is no time to blog. There is barely time to make a decent meal. There are presents to be wrapped still — presents still to buy. Loads of laundry await me. Wes is closer to 9 months than to 8, and I’ve yet to photograph him at this time. The end of the academic semester is a cruel, cruel time. Too many papers to grade and already much to prepare for the semester ahead. Craig is weeks away from beginning his teaching internship. I will be teaching most of my classes on campus next spring, unlike in past semesters where I had the luxury of teaching a heavy load of classes from home. All while take turns keeping Wes at home with us. It is, perhaps, too much. We are barely hanging on.
This morning as I took Niles and Wes out for our morning walk, I ran into a mama clutching her 5 day old baby while chasing after her leash-less pug Lucy. I dutifully collected Lucy’s poo off the grass; it was the least I could do. The mama looked at me in sheer terror and asked: “when does it get easier?” I wanted to be supportive, but couldn’t think of how to honestly answer. It is hard with a 5 day old baby, and it is hard with an almost 9 month old teething baby who is in pain and refusing to nap.
It’s how you end up with a much too awake baby after a failed barely 30 minute nap, still wearing pajamas, raucously playing the tambourine entirely too early in the morning.
I hope things are calmer on your end.