I don’t know how we are supposed to do it.

So many things happen every day.

Night before last, Briar and I were just getting home from the grocery store.
I had her in my arms as I opened up the back of the car.
I took a step back to look up at the sky and I saw a plane.
I pointed to the plane and held Briar so she could see it as I said,

“Look, air plane. That’s an airplane. Airplane.”

She looked up into the sky, clearly eager to see what I was showing her.
The plane passed through a wall of clouds and burst into a stretch of blue sky.
She kicked her little legs, lifted her arm and pointed toward the plane as she exclaimed,

“Eh poe. Eh poe!”

Last night we were out in the front yard. I was watering plants, Briar was clearing the sidewalk of any stray blades of grass or fallen pieces of bark. It was a perfect shared experience, which I peppered with a bit of mama wackiness- holding the hose and jumping in the air as I lifted my knees as close to my ears as I could and squealing “Briar!”

One of our neighbors saw us and came over to say hi. Briar seems to really rise to the occasion when it comes to impressing the neighborhood. She pops right up to a standing position, gives a dazzling grin and takes a few deliberate steps.

Last night, though, last night she took a walk! She walked 15, 20, 30 steps. Just putting one foot in front of the other, teetering occasionally, but never falling. She was very proud of herself, but played it pretty cool.

So there’s that, but there are still the delicious stories from the fair. Maybe delicious is the wrong word, considering the corn chowder.

My point is, if I don’t take the time to write something each day, the stories are destined to be eclipsed by the other things that happen. Every moment being better than the last. Sean and I both struggle to fit it all in.

Yesterday he went to work at 6 am and got home at 8:30pm. I went in at 8 and got home at 7, not as bad, but still. We managed to have wonderful time with Briar- a bath, some reading, cuddling, and Sean actually fell asleep “putting her to bed.” Quick bite of dinner at 10:30 and then to bed.

We are doing incredible work. Together. At work and at home. And in the community. It feels, pardon my French, really fucking great, to be aware in the moment as you begin to shape significant change in the place you work and live. We are contributing. Giving. Growing. Fighting for the greater good. But there are little fruit flies in the kitchen damnit. And there isn’t time to have a cup of coffee together at home.

We have had this situation before, and really come to realize that it is the world we create because we enjoy it. I hope we aren’t twisted and the type of people who enjoy crying misery about their lives. No. We aren’t like that. We just want the absolute most out of every aspect of our lives and the reality must be that the different aspects take turns thriving.

Rich personal time.
Then a little incredible professional time.
Extraordinary recreational time.
A stellar nap, or sleep-in.

Just not all at once.

I did make a huge step forward the other day. I think everyone has the little fruit flies right now, but everyone knows that it doesn’t make it any less annoying when they hover right at eye level wherever you go. Anyway, I looked at the sink which was maybe half full with dishes and then I looked at the dishwasher.


I knew there were clean dishes in it.

The idea of unloading those dishes so that I could load the others?

So not a good feeling. Huge weights. A thundering, “But I don’t wanna!” in my head.

Groan. Trudge. Reach.

I did it. Then I scoured the countertops and poured bleach down both drains.

7 minutes later I walked out of the sparkling room I like to call my kitchen.

Oh, yeah. I did the dishes. And it felt so good!

I’ve been trying to do those little things. Note how I am writing here in the blog. It feels good. And I can make time for these things. Maybe –

(Oh I hate this!)

maybe if Sean and I just picked up the dog leashes and turned off the tv, or didn’t hit snooze and preset the coffee pot, or replaced a complaint about time with a plan for something, we’d make the most of our time.

I mean cleaning the kitchen only took 7 minutes, I know I have dreaded it and played the stack the dirty dishes inside one another so it looks like there aren’t so many times and that I have done it for far longer than 7 minutes.

Nothing feels as good as a sparkly kitchen,
a giddy dog,
an Adirondack sunrise,
or a shared plan with your honey.

Or a good blog entry.