I’m feeling a little overwhelmed right now. Maybe even a lot overwhelmed. I’m doing my best to keep an even keel, mostly by doing what’s right in front of me and not thinking about what things are going to look like tomorrow, or next week, or next year. Sometimes by stopping, closing my eyes, and taking long, deep breaths that start way down in the belly. Sometimes by taking a moment.
This does not always go as planned. Yesterday, I was working on something in the office when Paul released the boys from their bath. They stormed in, and they were so cute in their matching hooded towel wraps that I decided it was a moment. I tried to take a picture to preserve it for posterity, or maybe for that embarrassing slide show at the wedding reception, and I asked them to stand together nicely and smile.
It went very well. Not. (Seriously, though, I love how entertained Elias is by his big brother.)
Sometimes, though, it turns out better than I could have hoped. Today was plotted in 10-minute increments from beginning to end, with no wiggle room anywhere. Everything had pretty much fallen into line as expected, and right before I left for a meeting this evening, I suddenly found that I had nothing to do. Supper for everyone was in the oven. The boys were – at least in that moment – playing happily together. My bag was already in the car.
So I took my mug of tea out onto the porch and breathed in the cold clean air, and looked up the hill at the sun streaking red and gold all over the steeple and barns and silos (my favorite part of our house might be the view outside it) and took A Moment.
It’s not a week at the beach. But it’ll do for now.