Truce.

I've been spending my days feeling slightly anxious and tired. It's the norm (for me) this time of year. Something in me is always yearning for permanence - things that never change. I suppose I am learning my body is no different.

Warmth is what I eternally need. And just as I adjust, my side of the world changes. And we roll in circles. Until the leaves brighten and the nights cool themselves down from long, warm, smoke-field afternoons of harvest.

For now, summer lingers still, but only for a moment. And although Autumn may be the most delicious of all, it always brings a sad sort of longing, and I spend those pretty days soaking up every last ounce of warmth, and asking myself where the past few months have gone.

Make that the past few years, as that's what I've really been asking myself lately.

Two years ago, I was begging for the fall to come quicker. I was washing brand new baby clothes and spending hours in a freshly painted nursery wondering how much my life was about to change.

Change it has. Over and over again.

I hardly even look the same. I don't act the same. And tonight when I tucked darling into bed, I thought back to how many times I had to hold my breath and calm myself down before I melted down. And when I say melt down, I suppose I mean break down. Break-down as in I had to struggle to stop myself from joining my child in his all-out fit-throwing all throughout all of the day.

(Mothers can throw fits too, you know.)

What a marvelous stage we're in!

Thank the heavens that tonight as all is quiet. And in the quietness, and the settling darkness outside, this stage may be a little more marvelous than I realize. A tiny little soul coming into his own, with all of the affections he's received throughout his tiny little life. Life that I gave to him. And affections I've poured into his little heart, as I've nourished every part of him. And there is emotion in him, and passion. Which I've learned equates to exhaustion on my part, but it's sort of miraculous, too.

Before I peeled myself from the couch tonight to scoot him to his room, he peeled himself away from his collections of cars for a moment, and came running to me to kiss me. On his own. By himself. I just melted.

Megan commented how seeing your little sleeping prince at the end of a long day seems to erase all the bad things they've done. Things like throwing battery toys in the tub or hitting you and pulling your hair in public. (Both true stories from the book of our day today.)

Well, they're not totally erased. Toys are water logged and broken. I'm missing some hair. And I'm still exhausted. But those little toddler lips are the cutest I've ever seen. And tonight they kissed me.

(I think) that counts as some sort of truce.

Xo,
HRK