loudly, relentlessly

I wrote this post in the thick of winter, from a boundless marsh of illness, with a clingy baby and a moody not-quite four-year-old who whose daily meltdowns sucked most joy from our waking hours. Things have evolved, somewhat, but much still applies.

There is so much I feel I need to say about life right now. But life speaks for itself. Loudly, relentlessly.

Our days overflow. There is no stopping until we are dizzy with exhaustion. I feel in a state of constant drowning, often swallowed by screaming kids and mess and chaos. Unable to attend to the demands of work, because needy kids. Unable to meet the needs of kids, because work.

We've had weeks and months brimful of moments so calamitous and trying they are best put behind us. The dance between two houses continues to wreak a toll. I cannot fathom how we have been doing this for four years. The equivalent (in travel time, in packing/unpacking, in fullness of itinerary) of an interstate trip every fortnight, with two small humans in tow. It's unsettling to say the least. We have so little downtime. We have aged at warp-speed. I realise it's probably a thing among mothers of (multiple) small humans, but I have lost a lot of my bliss.

This island, these four years have been beautiful and astounding and we are ever grateful to have landed here. We've laid down memories steeped in saltwater and sunsets. Childhoods begun in the sand. Eyes drinking in the exquisite ocean-bound world. And there is all the bliss to be found here in these moments.

I think I am allowed to say, we have reached a place of in-between. We are dreaming up changes, mentally readying ourselves for life beyond the lighthouse. It's impossible to know what will evolve, but we are ready and willing and offering our best selves up to what the future may hold.

* Small point, but hat nappy up there belies the fact that I was cloth nappying until recently because nappy changes have become the penultimate screamfest.

these days

It has been almost a month since I've been at home on my own during the days with these gorgeous boys.* It is difficult because it is motherhood (duh), but is is also difficult because there is no cafe, no library, no playground, no pavement to pound, no neighbours' kids, no mid-week one-hour yoga escape, simply no one else around, except K when he gets home from work.

It has been a month of trying to find my groove. Of trying to rise above the 'haven'ts' (see above) and create a reality for us that is fun and memorable and celebrates our amazing location. Of realising that these are the days! And they are fleeting! It will take more than a month, all of this, of course. Some of it is a daily practice.

The best thing about this new world order has been reconnecting with the big boy. There has been much change for him in the past year, and it shows. There are shining moments where he is pure delight - kind, curious, helpful, funny, loving, playful. But much of the time, he has been moody and cantankerous, master of the epic meltdown. And he saves his very worst for me. So, after a tumultuous first week on our own together, I feel like we are re-establishing our little union. And it has been so lovely, and such a relief, to feel the love again with him. This portrait was his idea: he loves pressing the timer button on our cameras!

And the small boy, well, he just fits in. He needs to be fed often when he is awake, but is the most chilled out little being, who just laughs and gurgles and sleeps. And he sleeps! All the exclamation points in the world cannot emphasise this point enough. I would never have thought it possible after Ellery. I waited two plus years to get some me-time back in my evenings. And after just two months with the little feller, I have my evenings back again. Incredulous!! And well-earned, if I may say so.

Despite my hesitations about daytime flying solo, I'm actually enjoying it. Beyond the bonding stuff, I am quite liking the challenge of trying to get stuff done (and am now known around these parts as Wonder Woman), and reinvigorating our space and our routines.

I am writing this in the early heady days. It may be a different story by October when I'm due back at work. But it's surpassed my expectations. And fluffed out my heart a bit. I call that a win.

*We had an au pair until recently (necessary for my work from our island outpost), who stayed on for the first couple of months after our littlest feller was born.