Sometimes I feel like I’m on a roller coaster without a safety bar. I spent part of this week in complete freak-out mode because Rowan is going to be a year old, but he should only be ten months old, and all of the feelings I’ve avoided so well for the last few months have been threatening to send this car plunging. I’m keeping my hands and feet inside the ride and holding on tight.
I’m sure I will have plenty more to say about the realities of having my tiny tiny baby get big, and clobbering feeling of all the experiences I’m never going to get with him because it’s too late. It was always too late, but I’ve been tuning it out.
For now, though, I’m plunging headfirst into spring. I woke up at five am yesterday morning ready to clean my house. Ah yes, this means spring has officially arrived. There’s meteorological spring, astronomical spring, and Rhiannon spring. This morning I woke up before anybody else, snuggled next to a peaceful baby. My phone’s sleep tracker told me that I got three-straight hours of sleep at one point, which is sadly a huge win. Then I had the overwhelming urge to move flagstone. This is something of a disturbing early-spring trend. I spent the morning digging, and pulling, and moving, and getting bitten by fucking ants, because evidently ants don’t appreciate being sat on.
I get so restless in spring to make all the things happen, but after a year of no exercise I’m so completely out of shape that I couldn’t even make a dent. I need to get my body moving again. I started by walking with Lorelei to get the first SnoBalls of the year. Rowan ate a spoon.
I need to get a grip on the feeling that nothing can ever wait. That I need to do everything on my list immediately or else the day is wasted and I have failed. So now I’m going to sit next to this open window and enjoy the cool daylight savings breeze.