Time, But No Time, to Let It Out

This week I am down to 7.5 child-free hours because M's after-school program is over. I love being with the kids, so that's not the problem; the problem is that I have so much other stuff to do. But the good news is that I am going to a writer's retreat over the weekend, so I'll get to sleep, I mean write, while I'm there.

The pace of life so far this week amazes me. You might recall that M has morning preschool and K has afternoon kindergarten. And that it's the end of the school year, when fund-raising and teacher appreciation events happen, as well as spontaneous outdoor play dates requiring supervision ("Do you have sunblock on?" "NO! Do NOT touch that three-leaved plant!" "If you need my help to get up there, you should not climb it." "Please put your shoes back on....Oh, dear; let me get the splinter kit.")

I am able to write this entry now because Nancy is covering for me. I'm on my way to therapy in a little while. I have been crying a lot lately, after having dreamed about crying for a few weeks prior--my usual harbinger of a depressive episode. The crying feels good, necessary, as though I'm unburdening myself of long-held-in emotion. I guess moving, getting married, gutting my house b/c of water damage, leaving my job, adopting, and moving to a new house has been a lot of hard soldiering in the last five years.

While writing this, I've been texted by a teenage member of another adoptive family. Their kids are older than ours. The entire family has been working hard and well to overcome some tough obstacles. The parents don't use chat clients or Facebook, and I do, though I'm rarely at a keyboard long enough to indulge--but when I am, I check up on the kids. I do not know why this one texted me, so I'd better go see.