Pause

The past few weeks have been a shifting of spaces and the perpetual rebuilding of familiarity in an attempt to  balance my world. Inner Libran, you get me every time.

I've become a little undone.

It turns out blank pallets, complicated schedules and dreamy beachy escapades do not maintain harmonious friendships in the wee hours of exhaustion... you know, somewhere around half past shoulda-gone-to-bed-3-hours-ago.

Quality parenting has been shuffled a bit to the side. Just last week while driving in the car, sadly attempting to maintain a phone conversation with Kelly over feuding sibling background noise, we simultaneously asked each other, "Who are these kids and why do they hate the world so much?"

Later we remembered that transitions affect all our people and that parental stress rubs right off too. All that transferring of emotion between family... it's hell, er, swell. Yet, just at that one moment when exhaustion and frustration join forces and I prepare to catapult in to crazy-lady momspeak (that apparently, registers only at levels dogs can comprehend), I stumble into this little pause of life.

Laughter.

Unequivocal, irreplicable (not a real word, I know), unsolicited joy. Right here for the taking.

And suddenly, the paint colors don't matter so much. Who cares if little sugar ants find their way to the dishes? The mailman will surely inform me when I reach maximum mailbox capacity. Surely. Newfangled sense of calm? Welcome. Please stay.

For all those controversial debates over screen time and the effect on child development, I have never been more thankful for those 5 minutes with the iPhone and a trusty camera nearby.

Le sigh.