A Wednesday in Summer

Once upon a time, Summer brought a lot of anxiety. I'd worry and plan and stew and plan and cry and plan, all in anticipation of the long hours and long days that stretched before us.

And what usually followed were pretty darn great summers, not at all as bad or boring as I'd imagined.

This year something was different.  I didn't feel the impending doom.  I wasn't driven to make endless plans and stockpile materials for entertaining pinterest projects.  I watched the school days dwindling down and I was like, "Eh.  Whatever. We'll be fine"

And I think this illustrates what happens when you lose control of your life.  I mean, I have control.  Over some things.  Not much though.  And my kids, they cry all the time.  But we also have found this very comfortable place within each other and our home and while it's loud and often chaotic, it has become so much the norm that the only difference about a summer of loud, chaotic days is the season.

I did pull out our trusty chore board, so that all the necessities happen each day and we don't watch the TV or play the wii endlessly. 

But these days may just be regular Wednesdays and Mondays, they are normal.  And there is always some crying and fighting, but they are also full of some really ordinary moments that I have found  myself savoring.  

I know I have written before that I feel that I've reached my max, that I can do no more. And I really mean it this time.  Dan and I are truly at our capacity and many days feel overwhelming and hard. But tell me, what is there not to love about coloring with sidewalk chalk in your goggles and underwear?

We can plan and plan and plan and do and see wonderfully fun things.  But we can also, let it roll and enjoy what comes along. I recently came across this quote and I loved it.

"Joy comes to us in ordinary moments.  We risk missing out on joy when we get too busy chasing down the extraordinary."  -Brene Brown

I'm not sure I've been chasing down the extraordinary.  More like chasing down peace, quiet, calmness, sanity.  But the truth to me is, that just like love, joy often comes when we're not really looking for it, the only catch is, if you're not looking at all, it can be easy to miss. I'm trying to open my eyes and I'm starting to think that maybe instead of that elusive pee in solitude, my joy is right here, loud and in my face, jumping through the sprinkler, reading a book in sunshine, or coloring in his underwear.