This winter has done me in. Cold, snow, a pulled tendon from sitting too much with my feet tucked under me on the couch (seriously!). I generally like winter and its encouragement to look inward, as well as enjoying all those inside things like needle arts, reading, cooking, baking and catching up (or binging) on television shows on Netflix.
I was. No snow in sight.
I've been taking Jude to a kids' gym, where he can run around, hang, jump, etc. It's a great place, but I'm so relieved to nearly have filled up my punch card. Pulling into that parking lot with literally a line of mini vans deflated any ounce of strength I had. The place was packed, and while it is great seeing the kids have fun, I've just become weary of the constant buzz of children. But I do it for my kids, as you probably do too.
I often wonder why parenting is so agitating to me; the noise, the constant interruptions, the mere energy of these boys is enough to put me on edge. I found some answers in this article, about the highly sensitive parent, and it's like the sunlight parted the clouds above and heavenly beams shone down upon me (hyperbole much?). I probably wasn't cut out for raising children, but I'm still glad that I did, most days.
I hope my next post (a month from now, most likely) will be more positive. The past weeks, I've been quietly dying inside, restless, agitated, wanting to scream into the void. It's been a long winter here in Pennsylvania, and I know that spring is sooooo close. That's the hope I cling to, knowing everything changes and like the wind, so do our moods.
To end on a positive note: yesterday's post on the Wise Craft book has now turned into a giveaway, so go leave a comment on it if you'd like to win a copy. Good luck!