I was just sitting down with Ben, and telling him that yesterday I felt sort of... bored? I mean, it was incredibly fleeting, and then I found something necessary and useful to do, but still. Boredom. What a novel luxury. A few weeks ago, right in the middle of juggling newborn twins, I couldn't possibly fathom kicking my feet up in such a way, the babies soundly sleeping, the big kids happily playing outside, the house in order and the windows open. There are still crazy moments, and some nights still leave us feeling totally exhausted (ahem, last night, I'm looking at you), but things are, on a practical level, getting easier and easier, and all of a sudden we are looking down at two babies, not two newborns.
And while it is such a relief to feel this reprieve, it really is, might I say it is also a challenge? Because when you are literally spending every possible moment keeping things running, you don't have the time to feel tired, or grumpy. And then when you're twiddling your thumbs, all of a sudden, you have this time and energy, and find yourself getting worked up about the silliest things, like clothes that have been muddied. And I mean, it's spring, and the ground is covered in mud, and we have five children in the house. Clothes will clearly get muddy. Get over it, self. Thank goodness for a season of repentance.
Last night, the big girls begged Ben to make a campfire for them. They had made the stone ring and filled it with twigs, and even though it was pushing their bedtime, he went out to celebrate the warm air, the longer days (oh, March 9, how I have waited for your sunshine!), and a new day.
::The pram is back, after a sojourn with friends! Just the right size for two babies.
::A newspaper and a loaf of bread, my gift to Ben on a Saturday morning. There's something about an unread newspaper that is so hopeful and wonderful and nascent. Maybe this will be the best newspaper yet! Probably not, but there's that possibility.
::Fabrics for a baby blanket for these two little ones. They will share one for now, until I get around to making another one.
::A noisy spring wreath, which we hung up the day before the last storm. Spring will come, by golly! We are willing it into being.
::Braids and a campfire.