It was the tiny smile she offered that almost broke me, I was a mix of angry and tired and when she found my eyes in those heavy hours she simply smiled.
I know it passes,
but right now it feels like all I exist for is to keep these little humans alive.
I know it passes,
but right now it’s constant bobbing heads at my chest, screaming in car seats, being touched 24/7, did I forget how hard this season was? The fog clears with the lessons and finds us later with new ones.
I know it passes,
but right now I just want to get something done for myself, not half done, not with one hand, just one full thing.
I know it passes,
but right now my back hurts, my arms hurt, most things hurt, I’m slowly unravelling and I can’t pull myself back.
I know it passes,
But my older children are growing before my eyes, I’m constantly saying shhh even when they’re having fun, and the dynamic of a third is like the hour of 4pm in my brain on repeat.
I know it passes,
but this bedroom doesn’t feel like mine anymore, and as I wander in there at 7pm I wonder when, or if I’ll even come out.
I know it passes,
but I’m a naked shell, my night is in fragments. Starving for sleep, settling in surrender. Tired tears that seem sadder when they land on her head.
That’s when her eye caught mine,
and she smiled that perfect little smile.
Oh little soul, the one I grew next to mine.
Here you are in my arms, the ones you’ll outgrow, and I know.
I know.
It passes.
But this is the thick of it.
The exhausting intimacy
The blend of day and night.
The tiny smiles in those heavy hours.
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