"I want it all- and I would like it delivered." -Bette Midler

I'm home today with the boys.  Elliott has strep throat and hasn't been to school since Tuesday.  His antibiotics are finally kicking in, but daycare is closed for a family death, so both boys are rocking it with me.  It's been awhile since we've been settled into our comfortable routines, with my grandfather's funeral last week and the germy rebellion taking place over the last few days.  We're in that part of our lives where a few off days can hit hard hard hard.  I'm a little grumpy about it. 

Life right now is not pretty or balanced or predictable.  Things I eagerly anticipate (like seeing my whole family in one place last weekend) can be screwed up by things I never would have imagined (like drastically overestimating the boys' ability to hang/sleep in hotel beds/sit through a funeral/not puke constantly/let Ben and I enjoy the company of each other or anyone else for the entire weekend).  Some meaningless errands end up being so fun and I enjoy my family so much, and then the next second we all can't stand each other for the length of a Disney movie.  There is lots of hiding in the bathroom.

I'm finding solace in lots of solitary, nerdly pursuits. I've been reading my brain out and writing less than I'd like.  I'm stalling a little in my novel, and I think some of it is that I need a reader who can help me wade through the mess.  There's too much story now (350+ pages) to make an easy job of it, and finding someone who will take me in hand and be harsh when I need it is not simple.  I may start putting pieces up here, just to get some feedback and be motivated to keep going.  If nothing comes of this, I'm going to name my next kid after the main character.  I think Hazen is a cool name.  And I do want to find out what happens to her. 

I'm realizing (again or for the first time, I'm not sure) that this is not my life.  Not teaching first grade, or always doing daycare pick up, or having my weekends completely free.  This is a season.  This is our current situation.  Nothing all that huge will have to happen for a shift to come.  It just will.  Different things will click and pop and shudder and then the routine will be different for a few months and stuff might change again. 

I felt it today, being at Target on a Friday morning, chatting with other comfy-clad moms.  I feel it when my sister FaceTimes me in her glamorous work makeup, making passing statements about clients, or eating dinner at 8pm.  I do love my uniforms and my routines, but its scary to think of being stuck here forever. I find it weirdly comforting that in the shitty moments, (which are, when put in perspective, just fine) I can count on the fact that this might all be different in a year.  It mostly certainly will be different in five.  I have a lot more things I get to be before I'm done.

So that's a quick check in, as banal as it's possible to be, but I still appreciate, when I look back later, hearing myself talk out loud.  Seeing patterns (you're sad in the winter, dear) and realizing that most of my problems are petty and I'm blessed as hell.  Hashtag blessed.  Lucky.

(image credit here)