Spinning

I'm a busy person usually. That's okay. It's how I choose my life.

But the past few days have been sheer insanity. I wake up at 5:45 am and before I know it, it's midnight already, and I have to fall asleep knowing I have to be up again at 3 to feed the baby and then again for the day a mere two hours after that. I'm running on empty and literally find myself standing in the middle of a room wondering what it was I was doing because I was doing so many things at once, my brain seized and died.

I'm a very good multi-tasker and credit that ability to the reason I can fit so many things in one day. That and an incredibly wonderful partner in life who works just as hard if not harder at our family, our home, and our marriage.

But when I am home during the day, I'm a whirlwind. I am checking my work inbox while Sawyer drinks his bottle, my left arm contorted around or the bottle propped under my chin. I check email or return work phonecalls while the baby naps and Charlotte's eating breakfast. I fold laundry while the baby gets tummy time and Charlotte unfolds. I unload the dishwasher while holding a crabby baby in my left arm. It takes a little longer but I get it done. I clean the bathtub while I'm in the shower. I hold the baby while I vacuum because the sound soothes him. I color with Charlotte while I try and edit a paper while Sawyer naps. I switch the laundry quickly when I go in the basement to get more crackers from the pantry shelf. I sweep the floor while Charlotte plays playdough and Sawyer sings at his reflection from the mirror on the bouncy seat. I blog, read a chapter of a book, and watch Bones while talking to Mike about his day. I return phonecalls to my friends while I'm in the car on my headset. And after 19 hours, I fall into a dreamless state, waking to numb arms and legs and the grunting of a newborn.

But throughout my day, no matter how busy it gets, no matter how many versions of me I wish there were, I always take time to just stop and talk and play with my kids and husband. Charlotte and I play blocks together or she helps me change Sawyer. I put on The Little Mermaid for Charlotte to watch quietly so I can feed him peacefully and talk to him while he smiles and "agoooos" and gurgles. I take them outside to just sit on the chairs on the front lawn and watch the people go by, walking their dogs, riding their bikes, holding hands. We eat dinner together every single night. It may be later than usual. It may be leftovers or waffles. But every night we sit together at the table, Charlotte mushing her peanut butter sandwich in her hair, and we talk. Mike and I discuss our day and other things going on in our lives and Charlotte tells us about the fairies that live behind her swingset. Sawyer sits on my lap sucking on his pacifier or agooo-ing at his new family.

My world spins and spins and spins. Sometimes, it spins so fast it seems everything is blurry and moving by too quickly. So I stop. I stop and breathe and hug Charlotte or bite Sawyer's toes or kiss my husband.

One day next week, I'll be at my daughter's wedding or my son's graduation from college. When they stand there on those days that will matter so much to them, I want them to know that they mattered enough for me to slow down.

That I loved them enough to make the world stop spinning.