Status Update

Chaos. If I had to pick one word to describe life right now, that would be it. It’s not that we’re particularly busy – when I stop and think about it, we don’t actually do a whole helluva lot. Sure, we both work, and yes, we have two almost two year olds running wild around the house (not to mention the two dogs), but when I think about everything we had going on last year – an ongoing stream of visitors, a trip around the world, etc. – well this year seems pretty tame in comparison. And yet somehow, I constantly feel like we’re on a roller coaster ride and it’s all I can do to keep everybody’s arms and legs inside the car.

I wonder if everyone feels this way. After all, being an adult is pretty demanding. There are jobs to go to and bills to pay. Not to mention all the little tasks like laundry, doctor appointments, grocery shopping, jury duty (yes, jury duty). Then of course there are the things that you'd like to do, but because of the amount of time you spend doing the things you have to do, these things end up feeling like an obligation - phone calls to friends, personal emails, sending a birthday card, writing a thank you note. And finally, there are the things you really want to do, but by the time you’ve done everything else you either never get around to planning them or you’re too tired to really enjoy them – vacations, date nights, girls nights out.

Being an adult is hard. Throw in a kid or two, and perhaps a few animals, and it’s even harder.  So, yeah, I’m pretty sure most people can relate to my roller coaster analogy.  

But as much as there is to do, and as challenging as it is to do it while juggling toddlers, I still get into bed every night (okay, most nights), and I feel really happy. And yet, moment to moment, I’m typically rotating between feelings of exhaustion, frustration, and failure. So lately, I'm working on feeling the happy in each moment instead of waiting for hindsight to see it.

And there is a lot of happiness. The girls are more and more fun every day. They sing songs and play pretend and do ring-around-the-rosies. They're talking enough to tell me what they want/need when they want/need it (a nice relief from the constant guesswork that came with parenting infants). They say "please" and "thank you" (with prompting, usually) and "good morning!" and best of all, "I love you." They certainly throw their fair share of tantrums, but for the most part,the giggles outnumber the screams.

Twenty years from now, I'm not sure what I'll remember when I look back at this part of my life - the feelings of inadequacy and exhaustion? Or the moments of pride and joy? I suppose this post is just meant to document the fact there have been equal parts of both!