Just Stuff.

Haven't written in a while because there is no time, no energy. During the week I see Joey for minutes at a time and our weekends are jammed packed with tball, family bbq's, shopping, and house cleaning.
But in all the busyness I feel like we have a functional routine and I like feeling productive. It also makes the relax times that much more relaxing. I cherish my Sunday afternoons: after putting the boys down for their naps, I wiggle into my bikini, grab my tanning oil and head up to our patio with a icy drink.  I rest (or talk with Joey if he comes up with me) while I let the sun sink into my skin, relaxing my muscles.
For some reason I'm living with less fear, less of a death grip on life as I thought it would be. As unsettling as it is, I'm seeing that things don't have to be the way they always were, that things can change and that's alright-more than alright, change in a lot of ways brings new life.
I know that's all vague and weird, but it's just something that I've been realizing lately and it's exciting because it means there's opportunities for newness. Which I always need, being so afraid of growing old, having already had the best years of my life, etc etc.  You know, all that bullshit.
My boys are growing up right before my eyes. They look so similar it's almost a little creepy, even to me and I am their mother. I'm still trying to figure Noah out-I think he's still trying to figure himself out. He has to have any seat he's in buckled, he will throw food at any chance he gets and this evening he dumped a full salt shaker all out on the kitchen floor.
And we are supposed to survive this? And still be functional adults?
**note to self: if you want to feel like the worst mother ever to walk our planet earth,desperately put ear plugs in at two in the morning (after listening to your two year old scream for two hours) and then wake up two and a half hours later to him still screaming. Go in his room and find him behind the rocker, alternating between hitting his head on the wall and the chair like some person in an insane asylum getting weened off crack. Then wonder how long he's been out of his bed in the pitch black screaming his head off, and realize the clunk you heard two and a half hours ago when you decided you were done and put the ear plugs in was not his sippy cup of milk like you thought it was but actually it was him, falling out of his crib for the first time. Two and half hours ago. Yeah, think about that. It's a lovely thought.
But you know, other than that sort of stuff life over here is actually going really well. As I was leaving work today I thought, probably for the hundredth thousandth time since I started working how much I like to work and how much more functional this is for our family.
I'm still seriously dealing with mommy guilt but I kinda just tell it to shut up because I know this is better for us. I try to take advantage of the time I get with my little guys: the bed time stories, games after work, and fun filled weekends (which reminds me! I got myself Joey a fire pit for Father's Day and I love it! We've used it twice and it's like camping, only right in our backyard! I get to watch the dusk turn into night, listen to the crickets come out, enjoy a glass of wine while watching the warm flame do it's mesmerizing dance right before me! It's absolutely perfect as long as our neighbors decide not to blast eighties rock music out their back door. That kinda ruins it.)Where was I? Mommy guilt. So yeah, besides right now, I try to spend most of my off time with the boys. Which, sigh, reminds me I need to go do that now. It's bedtime, baby.