EVEN WHEN I'M MOVING SLOWLY I HAVE WORDS TO SQUEEZE OUT

Listen, I was terribly tired this week. Time was not on my side and that always feels unfair, even if we all know that time is one of the most fair distributions of things that ever was and can be. It's frightfully relative in its perception. The slipping away of time can raise feelings of despair and crankiness in you like you wouldn't believe. If you've been there you know what I mean when I describe that slightly bewildered feeling that you get when you pass by a mirror and get a glimpse and think. 'Wait, who is that?'.... is that what I look like right now?' And no amount of fixing will do. You take a deep breath, and just keep going, sludging along the best you can.

I can pretend to be 100% chipper, but I am what I am, and what I am is still tired. So I'm 80% chipper and 20% in the depths of despair. I'm a little bit in the fog, and this is what winter is like for me, but now with an extra layer of can-a-girl-get-some-sleep. There are hours in the day when I feel wholly unlike myself. 

Most of that to say, my main goal for this past weekend was to try to sleep as early as possible. I got my bod into the bed at 9:30 on Friday night but my crazy brain WOULD NOT SHUT DOWN when I needed it to.  The next night was no better and the baby felt a tortured need to climb into bed with me at 3AM and press down every part of my face with her fingers. 

We had a couple of visitors while Ken was away this past weekend. We breakfasted with one of them, had a relaxing afternoon with another, and then had some lady time just me and my baby at the mall. 

Sloane surprised me several times this past weekend. One of these times was after her bath on Friday night. She went around to all the rooms on the second floor, to pull each door shut, one by one.  Her method is as such: she pulls the door to as close to the frame as possible, and then gets up on the tippest of her toes to grab the underbelly of the doorknob and pull it until it clicks shut. 

Another one of these moments was when we were at the mall. I meant to pop into one store for just one quick thing, but it was a blessed sunny day and Sloane was so into perusing the items that we made an afternoon out of it. This little girl of mine is FULL of opinions.  My eyes got wider and wider as she would say "yes" this and no" that to colors and items of clothing, and Sloane do you remember the time when you were convinced that a yellow shirt, and only a yellow one, would do?? 

Oh the conversations we have. It's a skill, and a privilege, talking artfully to a one and a half year old.  And why is it so fun siting in a mall food court with my one and a half year old, munching on chicken and fruit, people-watching together? 

I'm clenching these moments in my hands, to give it a good hard squeeze, as if it was a sponge or those hand exercise ball thingies. I know they won't last. It's as simple as that. 

You know what's funny? I sometimes catch myself calling Sloane, "Eunice", my baby sister's name.  Eunice is not a baby anymore, she is one of my best friends, but that older sister thing, it's built in real deep, you know? 

If you are a thrillseeker and are used to the high and lows, then parenting a toddler might be right up your alley. Just a different kind of alley. There are moments of euphoria when you don't think anything could be better and then they're our moments of absolute exhaustion. There's also the element of unpredictability and surprise so you never really know what's going to happen - which can be a good thing if you are an adventurer or a terrible thing if you are a planner.  I feel glad to be a little bit of both.

This post was meant to be a recap of a weekend, but it's a little bit all over the place, and you'll forgive me if you made it to the end. One last thing. I'm still (slowly) marching through Gilead, a few pages here and there whenever I can steal a moment alone.  I read this passage in it the other day and clutched the book to my heart, "True Love!" I sighed: 

"Last time she brought back a copy of The Trail of the Lonesome Pine that was worn ragged, all held together with tape. She just sank into it, though, she just melted into it. And I made scrambled eggs and toasted cheese sandwiches for our supper so she wouldn't have to put the book down."