These days my brain most closely resembles a bowl of mush and I'm rarely cognizant of what day it is. I haven't written much because I feel like I can barely string together a coherent sentence, let alone a whole paragraph that adequately expresses the stirrings inside. And my body, oh my body has never been so exhausted, so tired, so achily fatigued, not even after any of my 4 marathons, not after my toughest weeks on the trail as a backpacking guide, not following the births of my sons. One month after Blake's birth and I am the most tired I have ever been. Sure, the sleep deprivation is a big part of that, but I that on top of the physical exertion required to constantly hold one baby, sometimes a toddler too has brought forth a fatigue that a month's worth of sleep couldn't cure.
But one thing I am reminded of often is this is a season. And seasons change, whether we want them to (and sometimes we desperately do) or not (and sometimes we desperately wish for them to stay). Each season has, as I call them, its beauty points and its buggers. Just as summer brings with it sunshine and long lit days, it also ushers in a bounty of mosquitos. Right now the landscape of what seems like a bazillion poopy diapers a day, sleepless nights, and groggy days is also dotted with soft, sweet, milky breathe, tender little coos, and melt-your-heart first smiles. I'd be lying if I said, it doesn't get any better than this. I'd also be lying if I said I loved all four seasons equally. But, I can say in all honesty that there are aspects of every season that I do thoroughly enjoy, so in this season of juggling a teething toddler and crying newborn, I'm clinging to the little things, the sweet tender moments that pass in the blink of an eye. As for the rest, let this crazy rollercoaster fly on!