I tried to find the land of nod an hour ago.
As I climbed into bed, my daughter and husband waiting for me, the littlest found her way into my spot. Husband moved her back to her designated place somewhere in the middle. Our hands met above a baby belly, clasped together and he played with my wedding band. I smiled.
I smelled Paige's soft hair, held her soft hand and closed my eyes.
I wanted to sleep. I needed to sleep. But I couldn't.
Tried counting backwards from 100. Said my prayers. Reviewed the day. I navigated, sorted, weaved in and out of pictures...
Holding the phone trying not to shout at a town recreation department worker. She says things like no one has ever complained before and you can't be with your son during the next class and maybe he needs a class for younger children.
Not his age group. Paige's. Defeating the purpose of giving Fynn a chance to be around children his age, without his sister. The reason? Barny'ish music was being played at Fynn's first sports class and it was too loud for Fynn. Too loud for me. He hid when it was on, played and listened to instructions when it was off or on softly. I wanted to hide when the high pitched chaotic music drowned out my thoughts as well. I want to hide now.
So I call, ask if the music can be turned down for the next class. I am my son's advocate.
They say we can try next week. They'll try to turn the music down.
I navigate through pictures of my day.
Paige taking off and running through a busy parking lot... next to a heavily traveled road... parallel to a major highway... She ran. Fast. I stumbled after her ~ not thinking to drop a tray of three half eaten cups of ice cream ~ yelling behind me for Fynn to stop. To not chase after me.
She's safe. Fynn stands by a trash can waiting. He knows. He listened.
Two men sitting next to our table watch as we leave. They talk about being servants to God. Talk about good will. Talk about helping others. Their eyes burn holes into the back of my neck as I tearfully remind my children that parking lots are not playgrounds. That mommy cannot be everywhere at once. That sometimes it's just mommy and God, and mommy is so thankful for His eyes.
I navigate through pictures of my day.
Paige sitting with a friend a few months her junior. Feeding her goldfish. Being tender and sweet. They smile at each other. Little girl friendships in the making.
I navigate through pictures of my day.
Following Fynn up up up to the top of the playground ship. He tells me we're going on an adventure. Where are we going baby? He casually replies To Orange Island, I'm a boy Mommy, not a baby... He leads the way, I follow. Smile as the sun hits my face and laugh with Fynn as he steers us through a river to the magical Orange Island.
I navigate.
So now I sit. Awake. Cried out from various points of the day. Tears unshed, but still felt. My bedtime tea tells me "To be proud of who you are."
I am. But sometimes navigating the waters of me, and motherhood, and life leave me up at night wondering which way to turn. Reminding myself to trust and find the spaces meant for leading, and the ones for following. Reminding myself to throw down the tray and run. Reminding myself that tomorrow is a new day, but today was necessary. Today held lessons of love and patience. Of being me and showing true colors. Today we ate ice cream before dinner, laughed with friends, and rode on a tall ship. Not too shabby.
**and as it is now Thursday... all references of "today" meant "yesterday"... sweet dreams!
*** also... totally inspired by this lady's use of the picnic stars... which worked perfectly in the above photo ;)