an almost-autumn epiphany


Now that I have space to myself to breath again (oh, it feels so spacious, so very spacious), I have done a little sleuthing.

I looked back at my archives.

And I noticed, yup: there's the same pattern, every September. Summer ends and I can breathe again. Time to myself. It's so important. (I keep wondering how I ever got through those first three years of parenthood where I had almost no time on my own. I have no concrete answers except that I just did it, despite how very hard it was.)


I thought I had it covered, with summer camp this year.

And that was good, while it lasted. But then summer camp ended and we all got sick and that was hard and I always forget that my husband goes back to work at the same time as back to school (he's an academic). And that when he goes back to work, he has to work harder the weeks before, to get ready. Which leaves me fumbling, at the tail end of summer. Oops.

I'm noticing. Giving myself more slack. Being gentle with myself.

(Not complaining. It feels like I'm complaining. But I'm not. Or I'm trying hard not to!)


Last fall, I took some time and gathered myself and then I jumped back in. And that's inevitably gonna happen this year, too.

The constant is this: I continue blogging through the summer because even when I have very little time to myself it is important to me to continue to write here. It's important to me to continue this practice. I keep writing and I keep taking photographs.

And I keep carving out little bits of time for myself, even in the summer. I am doing much better at that than I did when I first became a mom.


I also had a sudden epiphany last night about how much of the issues of the past week or so have been the result of my needing-my-own-space bumping up against my kid being so (so, so, so very) sensory seeking. He literally crashes into everything, because he likes to. It feels good. I remember when that felt good to me, too.

But it doesn't feel good for me to be crashed into anymore and I'm going to blame aging. I used to love moshing. I even started a very small mosh pit at my high school reunion, but we didn't last very long because we're not kids anymore. Seriously. It was fun for about four minutes and then I was done.

And that was an incredibly small mosh pit, by my former standards. We started with two people and maybe got five by the end? Ten at a maximum. It was not an actual pit, it was just people bumping into one another. LOL Such a far cry from the huge moshpits of my youth. Then again, I also wasn't wearing my Docs and moshing without Docs is not really smart - except I think by that point we were all mostly barefoot, so it didn't matter.


I'm not sure where to go with that epiphany except to keep investigating sensory play options for Remy. I was able to get him to play a burrito game (wrapping him up tightly in a blanket) which he really loved a few weeks ago. I just need to keep remembering options like that.

I'm thinking of putting together a facebook group for parents of sensory seeking kids, because group-think can be really helpful in this sort of situation. Let me know if you're interested.