Spin Cycle

I remember my old spin cycles. When I was swamped with my job, going to graduate school, and trying to maintain a (albeit already terrible) relationship. Even earlier, managing part time work and a full courseload and making time for girl night and beer. There were times that it got so concentrated that I felt like I had to just shut my eyes, keep my head low, and drive through it.

Of course as a parent, my spin cycles are more intense and for me, harder to manage because these little people don't seem to sympathize when you are 'done' and need a nap, or a tub, or an afternoon to lay on the couch and watch TLC (or The Travel Channel when they're doing 'No Reservation' reruns. Anthony Bourdain is my kind of asshole). Whether it was early on when the baby ran a fever and we took turns staying up and watching her, cooling her off with a washcloth and keeping the Motrin at the ready; or perhaps now with two little ones, shuttling us back and forth to the pediatrician's office and trying to stay calm about fevers and coughs and 'flu symptoms'.

It's been like that for awhile here. Sick kids, sick parents, sick friends. Less sleep than is preferable. Less time for long walks. Less time on the phone with friends. So much so that I felt like I was under a blanket for a few weeks, not able to return phone calls or write emails. Just enough to prepare meals, keep a house (relatively) clean, keep the laundry going and have time to push kids on swings and read books, when they were feeling LESS lousy.

And normally I'll admit that I get very itchy when I feel like I haven't been out or just alone, really. But this last time was different. Maybe I was feeling particularly protective of our family time, after a rough few weeks of transition for my children and a time of reflection for me. Don't get me wrong, I've scooted out a few nights to hit the grocery store or go shop for the kids, but there is a rush to get back. To check in on them. Feel their cheeks. Snuggle them in. Smell their hair and smile a little at how silly they got in the tub earlier.

To know they are mine, always and truly. And to stay close for as long as I can.