I loved watching her confusion, because at nearly four she's mostly on the far side of the terrible twos (you know they last way longer than a year, right?). 'You were just behaving like that yesterday,' I thought to myself. 'How don't you recognize it?' That's both true and a metaphor: she had a furious outburst yesterday afternoon because she didn't want to say goodbye to her friends, but mostly she's entered the age of reasoning. It just feels like yesterday that no! was her own favorite word. Time flies, and all that.
When I started writing here in March 2008, it was E who was twoing terribly. I needed an outlet for myself, because it took so much of me to be a calm, soothing mama to a wild two-year-old and a baby L who was just figuring out how to roll over. I needed to figure out two kids, after I had barely managed one. I needed to figure out how I would manage them both as the lovely husband began traveling for work again, and as I prepared to return to work after several months' maternity leave. I needed to figure out the terrible twos and rolling over and husband in Florida and my own work and the 'me' part of the balance. I needed to figure out me.
I've refound me and held onto her. Most nights the lovely husband packs lunches and leaves me to write, and isn't that a gift? Isn't he a gift? He knows that if I give a little time to my own mind I feel so much better. I'll sleep better and feel a greater calm through the next day. I hold onto me.
I've made a practice of writing. I've made a practice of spending a few minutes a night for myself. I've published 999 posts. This one is my thousandth.
And I will need to come back here and keep writing, because balance is ever more elusive. Without this space and you, I don't know if I have the strength to face the terrible twos for a third time.
Indulge me tonight. I've told you why I'm here. Now you tell me: why are you here?