“Tired doesn’t mean weak.” That’s what Colin used to tell me. It’s probably worth taking a look at where that idea first manifested itself in my life. As a mom of two babies, now two and three, I experienced tired at a level I didn’t know existed. Nursing Quinn every two hours for Eight. Months. Straight. had me hitting my rock bottom of exhaustion. That was, until six months later when I wound up with a concussion from passing out in the bathroom in the middle of the night.

And so began a changed relationship with rest…

Now when I am tired, I’m more apt to recognize my limits, but that’s not the only shift I’ve made. I also try to schedule less busy and more rest into my life. I no longer regularly schedule long days of back to back meetings. Sometimes it happens, sometimes it has to happen, but not every week. My body and soul require more space, more rest.

Perhaps it’s my new age, 40, and growing older that pushes me toward a slower pace, but it feels good to spend less time going and more time being. Now if I could just figure out how to keep these two resting in their own beds for a full night of uninterrupted sleep. For tonight, I’ll just enjoy the snuggles.

I’m an accidental blogger. After our first son was born, I had a lot to say and no one to talk to in the middle of the night. I was up nursing a baby at all hours, but mostly doing so alone. I had written Cash’s birth story on a blogging site, out of a lack of any better option. Before I even realized it, I was regularly having a thought I needed to process it wanted to hang on to, and I was writing them on my “blog”. Then the blogger app disappeared from the app store.

I thought that was the end of my blogging stint, but it turns out I was missing my outlet. I’ve kept a journal since fourth grade, but since having kids, my attempts to regularly journal before bed have been more haphazard than consistent. The mobile blog site is a way better fit at the stage of the game. So here I am…With a new place for my thoughts and a brand-new blog spot!

Late last summer, we made the decision to enroll Quinn at Lerner School in their Little Learner’s Program. He would go MWF 8a-1p. Colin’s schedule would also change, after our first official family beach vacation over Labor Day. He would work 4 ten-hour shifts with Wednesdays off. At the same time, Cash would be starting school at Carolina Friends M-F (9-3). We knew it would be a tough schedule with two kids at two different schools with two different drop-offs and pick-ups, but we’ve almost made it through. And, it’s been amazing!

Both kids have thrived at their respective schools, and I think the experiences have helped foster even more independence and autonomy for each of our boys! Quinn has his best friend, Liev, and now his other friend, Harris (Vaughn’s little brother), has joined his class. Cash loves playing with his friend Henry, but also LOVES playing with the “big kids” on the playground. He tells me, “I’m so fast, no one can even catch me!” In the mornings, he picks out his fastest running shoes in preparation for a chase game with the big kids.

We also have our systems a little more ironed out. It took about 2 1/2 years to do, which looking back isn’t too bad, but given that I don’t function well without systems, it’s been bumpy. Now, we have a room that functions as the hub of our family. Six bins are labeled, Cash’s school clothes, Quinn’s school clothes, Cash’s coats, Quinn’s coats, Cash’s shoes, and Quinn’s shoes. There’s also a basket of socks and a basket of underwear. Lunches (kosher for Quinn, trash-free and nut free for Cash) are made the night before in Yumboxes. Blue water bottles are labeled with Mabel’s Labels for Cash (with a basketball hoop image) and green water bottles are labeled for Quinn (with a dinosaur image). Dinosaur backpack and lunchbox for Quinn, Trucks for Cash. When everything has a place, I spend a LOT less time on things that don’t matter…like looking for a missing shoe or running up and down the stairs looking for socks, and a coat, and another coat.

This season of being pulled toward two kids’ separate schedules has, at times, been totally intimidating! But, I’ve also gained a lot more confidence in my abilities to manage work and home while still juggling all the other things that make up our lives these days (barre class, birthday parties, tuition deposit due dates, museum passes, booking sitters, date nights, reading books, basketball, soccer, trips to the library), and to do so in a way that doesn’t (mostly) feel rushed or hectic. I believe the systems help a lot with that, as well as prioritizing what matters most.

I hope to simplify our lives even further, while at the same time recognizing that we may be entering an even busier season of life soon. I feel inspired by the choices we are making and the community we are building. I feel rooted in our values, and hopefully, we can continue to align our actions with those.

On the horizon are a lot of possibilities…
A trip to Bermuda
A third baby
Cash and Quinn as teammates
More date nights
Time alone during the week
The ability to prioritize time differently
Tenure
A start-up that is just starting up
Two kids in one school

It’s exciting times!

Well, it took me passing out in the bathroom floor in the middle of the night to finally give in to the idea that I just might be doing too much. We still don’t have complete solutions worked out, since none of the work around the house or at work cares that I am beyond exhausted. I’m working toward a more balanced place, though.

Here are some of my thoughts:

1. Limiting my working hours to a few hours a day so I don’t get so tired
2. Taking the summer “off” as much as possible
3. Calling in reinforcements when necessary
4. Figure out what “down time” means. Rushing to Pure Barre doesn’t count
5. The Bargaining stage of grief may be getting in the way of self care
6. Figure out what “enough” means. How do I know when I’m doing enough?
7. Say no to even more things than I already do!

Something has to change. I don’t ever want to wake up to Colin sounding so scared ever again.

This summer is one of my last baby summers. We decided to pull Cash out of school this Spring after school continued to not seem like a positive addition to his two-year old life. Quinn, on the other hand, is loving school and seems to get a lot out of his time there. For Cash, it always seemed like something he endured. So, once we found out that he would be going to Carolina Friends in the fall, we made the choice to have him spend more of his time with me, both on campus and at home.

It’s been an amazing decision! He piddles around the house, working on various little projects and playing his games. Depending on the day, I try to balance working and playing with him. We’ve both gotten a lot out of this time. It also feels a little bit like a countdown of our weekdays together. Soon, he will be at the Lerner School for camp five days a week. And in September, he will be at school five full days a week. It’s going to be a welcome shift that we are both ready for, but also makes me a little bit sad that this is the last of our summers that seem like we have babies at home.

I’m especially fortunate that my career choices allow me to have summers off with them. I’m so grateful to think about all the summers ahead of us…the bike rides, trips to the movie theater, pool days, and other summer adventures!

Next summer will be the first summer with both of them home with me all summer. The next big decision is whether or not we can afford for me to reduce my teaching load so that being “off” really means being “off”.

John Mayer’s Continuum takes me back to the days I lived alone. Having the windows open in my town house while I cleaned. A breezy fall or spring day. Football or basketball in the background. Something cooking. Cups of coffee. Making my bed. And my closet full of clothes and shoes, so many shoes. Running to the grocery store, inspired to make something specific for dinner. Talking on the phone. Taking a long shower. Sitting on the couch with the front door open.

One day, I’m going to take for granted the fact that Cash just talks. But right now, every little word and phrase is so powerful!

Space
Don’t drink it
Kin (Quinn)
Not ours

When we hired Annemie to be our photographer, I knew she was going to capture moments in time that I wanted to hold onto forever. I knew I would look back at these moments and be forever grateful to have found someone who could so skillfully balance photography and storytelling in a way that is both genuine and profound. What I didn’t know, and what she doesn’t know, is that what I love the most about ALL of our photos is what other people can’t see.  And not just what other people can’t see, but what I can’t see either…until I see it through her lens.

We have a photo in our bedroom. Technically, it’s from my maternity shoot, but I often forget that. Colin and I are standing on top of a parking deck in downtown Durham. Of course, as soon as we reached the top, Colin hopped up on a cement wall. And of course, as soon as he did, I placed my hand on his ankle. Look at this photo. Colin, way up high, with his arms out-stretched, like he’s about to take off. Me, eight months pregnant, looking up at him, but also trying to keep him grounded. This. Is. Us.

And this one. This was the first time I recognized myself after becoming a mom. In these early baby days after Cash was born, my mirror was showing me a tired, emotional, uncertain version of myself. But this photo showed me something different. I looked at this photo and for the VERY first time saw the beauty in my own version of motherhood. I probably hadn’t slept, or showered, or even brushed my teeth. I felt like a mess, but this photo showed me how beautiful it really was.

When Quinn arrived, he completed our family. Our boys are close together in age, 12 months to be exact, which means for one year, we were raising two babies at once. Some days it was tricky to even figure out how to get us all downstairs safely for breakfast. We changed a lot of diapers, and washed a lot of bottles, but we also did a lot of cuddling! My favorite part of that year with two babies was watching the very beginnings of their relationship as brothers. I mean, just look at these.

Every single session we’ve done together is like this. There’s always one photo that catches me completely off-guard. It stops me in my tracks. It makes my heart ache just a little. It shows me more than I could have seen with my own eyes.

And that’s what Annemie does for me. She makes me see myself, my kids, and my family through the most authentic lens.

I keep meaning to write down some of the things Cash and Quinn say these days.

Cash:
Quinn throw up? (Thanks to three weeks of puking related to ear infection)
Pook 💩
Cash do it
I try
Big tickle
Dad coming?
Quinn crazy
Quinn funny
Here comes
Tyson No
Me: How much do I love you? C: Too much
Me: What do you want for breakfast? C: cupcakes

Quinn:
Truck
Nooooo
Yes
Tyson
Caaa (Cash)
Caaa (Dad)
Dump truck
And animal sounds…Especially woof. And elephant sounds and lion roars

I’m still in the midst of these early years. These are the years when sleep is still hard to come by some nights, bedtimes aren’t quite established, and anything can throw things off (e.g., teeth, shots, transition, rearranging furniture, missed naps, etc.). While there are definitely these things that are still difficult, though getting easier by the day, there are other things that bring me so much joy I wish they would never end.

It occurred to me, the other day, that some of what I wish I could hold on to are the feelings of this stage. The love, the need, the interdependence, the awe, the pure joy, the devotion to our family unit, the extreme happiness. I wondered if I will forget what this feels like. When I pick Quinn up out of the Pack n Play because he’s awake now and wants to be held, and he is so grateful to be up in my arms, nestling into my neck, resting on my hip, at my eye level. Or when Cash is so excited when Colin or I get home from work that he can hardly contain himself as he’s bursting with energy, heading out the door to greet us! And he gives us hugs and kisses and acts out his day with his little charades, crinkling his forehead as Colin tells me Cash tried to bite someone and holding his own hand when Colin tells me who he was attached to on the playground when he arrived to pick him up from school.

I want to remember all of these feelings. They’re extreme, unfamiliar, chaotic, and even a little crazy. It’s like a roller coaster of emotion every single day, every single hour. And I want to keep it. I want more of it.