usually when i write, the words come. they flow easily and without much added thought. writing has long been therapy for me and i've always had an easier time expressing my truth in this way. for some reason, something about writing on a subject makes it more real, more tangible in my mind. i'm not sure i'll ever really be able to explain why that is. lately, the words haven't come. i don't have any good explanation for it but i find myself doing a lot of backspacing and rewinding. i usually write at night after the kids are sleeping and is some of the only "me time" in my life.
there exists a magical time in our house between the hours of 5 and 8. it is in this time that the real beauty and chaos of our life exists in its most obvious form. they are mundane real life moments...but magical ones. i typically do not answer phone calls, respond to emails or do anything other than soak up this sacred family time. emma usually spends dinner time "mixing it" and combing her food choices into one disastrously concocted stew that she quite enjoys. ryan and i exchange glances of downright disgust over some of the things she'll eat. chicken tenders in milk? ketchup on green beans? ben bounces happily on my lap or in ryan's and watches his big sister in awe. bathtime surely follows as emma, while quite skilled with her fork and spoon, is not the neatest of eaters. what she makes up for in her bubbly talkative personality she is surely lacking in her ability {or perhaps desire} to get food actually in her mouth. ben snuggles and tells stories about his day. then he usually spends a few quiet moments snoozing while emma uses the potty and climbs into the bath. after the bath and diapers and pjs and stories and milk and "brush brush" it's time fill the kids with "mommy love"....a little ritual which really boils down to lots of kisses and leaves both kids giggling. we tuck them in and say our goodnights and thank our lucky stars for these seemingly simple moments.
lately though, the words haven't come. between 12 hour workdays and home life i've started to lose martina. i don't feel quite like myself. i'm not exercising, i'm not trying new recipes, i'm not reading new books, i'm not writing....i'm not even taking pictures. i'm a bit on autopilot right now and i think both me and my words are suffering. i often feel guilty when i do things for myself but in this moment i don't think i have a choice....i think i have to start paying more attention to me or else this strange wordless autopilot place will win and i can't have it. every moment of my life is so very valuable and i have to honor that.
so....tomorrow, i'm sleeping in. we're taking the kids to the botanical garden to play and picnic. and i'm bringing my camera. and my family and i are going to breathe it all in. i'm going to exercise outdoors and i'm going to cook a meal i've never cooked before. i'm going to fill my kids up with "mommy love" and i'm going to hug my husband tight. i'm going to live and i'm going to say goodbye to the autopilot and ask that she never come back.
and then i'm going to write about it. and something tells if i do these things...the words will come. and i'll feel like me again.
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