Coming Up For Air

Wardie's participating in swim lessons.  

Remember those?  Your little body shivering in the cold water, the instructor urging you to trust, teaching you how to cup your hands, straighten your knees, kick your legs.  Blowing bubbles in the water.  Getting the courage to duck your head under for just the quickest moment just to come up, sputtering and gulping, to catch that breath of air.

Do we ever learn how to properly breathe underwater?

Miss Elliot turned 8 months old last week.  My baby is 2/3 of the way through her first year.  Ward is going to morning Montessori preschool and taking swim lessons two nights a week.  We're considering soccer this spring.  I am watching (in addition to our children) between two and four other children each day.  I just started coaching club volleyball again.  I became the Board President of the local Food Bank.  I deliver food once a month to another location through our church.  We have Sunday School and church groups and Bryan's playing music and trying to coach soccer on off days and travelling for work....

How can I possibly breathe properly?  

I mean, I'm not complaining.  Honestly.  We fill our time to the brim with friends and family and outings and projects.  My cup runneth over, truly.  I know how lucky we are to surround ourselves with love.  

And I know everyone does it.  And some do more of it.  And do it better.

But, I'm talking about the practical aspects--how can we function as human beings during this time?  And honestly, we don't TRY to be busy--we actually try and have a great deal of time at home--where do people find it!?

How do we balance all of these things?  How do we keep swimming and not forget to come up for air?

I'm not looking for June Cleaver here, I'm just working on breathing through the strokes.  I'm admiring the moms who do this daily.  I know with all that I am that we're doing it right--cleaning and projects and all of that can wait for a time when little boys aren't interested in making rocket ships or reading stories and little girls are weaned and don't give mom the biggest smile in the world when she enters the room.  I know I will look back and miss these days and wish my house wasn't so orderly and long for the days of fingerprints on glass and dust and chaos and noise.  These ARE the good old days.

So for now, I'm going to keep making schedules and running around and I'm not going to fight the busy-ness--I'm going to revel in it.  And keep on swimming.  Hopefully, my body will know when it's the right time to breathe.

PS--Thanks to my friend Amy for encouraging me to write again.  It may be another item to do, but the reflection it offers for me probably is similar to getting a manicure, and we ALL know that isn't happening!  


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