It feels like I am scooting along through this summer in a daze, amazed at how quickly the days are passing me by and how little I am doing other than caring for two small children.  Trying to be present in the moment and not wish these days away but longing for some consecutive hours of sleep and uninterrupted time with my husband.  Kissing their little faces and fingers and toes, realizing how quickly they grow.  Missing my friends.  Feeling like I am keeping a pretty good handle on things most of the time, but knowing it is a precarious ledge I am balancing on, this no-man’s land of motherhood I find myself mired in up to my eyeballs.

I remember all too clearly those early days after Arwyn was born, wanting to be everything to everybody but not quite knowing how.  Stumbling along, hoping we all come out on the other side still intact.  People tell me that I’m strong, that I can do this, that I can handle all of this chaos better than they can.  But I have moments, moments of crying in the kitchen where no one can see, moments of not knowing what the hell I’m doing or how I arrived at this crazy place or where to go from here, the stress that you can’t see manifesting itself in my gut, in my tone of voice, in the eyes that I see staring back at me blearily from the bathroom mirror on the rare ocassion that I take the time to look.

This time is awful and wonderful all at the same time.