My minion alarm went off this morning at 4:53am.  It was too early, and he is too loud.  After a quick shower, I rallied a smile for my little men, and started the day.

While sitting with my coffee in the dark, my mind was already on all that I had to accomplish.  Making mental notes, talking to myself, and moving from thought to thought.  It seemed like as soon as it began, I was already longing for the day to be over, and for some rest.

I am over committed, and exhausted.  I apologize often.  I have 4303 emails in my gmail inbox.  That is with filters ON that file away things like coupons, recipes and purchase receipts.  My to do list ALWAYS includes going through my email to make sure that something did not slip in that requires attention.  I cannot ever seem to get past the daily fires to get to most things on my list.  I actually confess to people often, that if they need to reach me, they will need to hunt me down.  I give people permission to stalk me.  How sad.

The last year and a half has been a blur.  I am grateful for the fuzzy memories, as I know in the deepest parts of my soul that this season has not been filled with my most shining moments.  I was not the best mom, wife, employee or friend.  I was just surviving in each role.  I humbly AM still just surviving in each role.

At the beginning of the year, we were consumed by worry about Trevor’s developmental progress.  Both language and motor delays had us running from assessment to assessment, and doctor to doctor.  The Google machine on my computer was also working overtime.  The choices, the appointments, the home therapy meetings, and the hours spent in the waiting room chasing Lucas are finally starting to wind down.

It is hard to truly know what made the most impact on his development, but this swamp is slowly drying.  Was it the group speech classes, the individual speech therapy, the holistic therapies, the elimination of chemicals in our home and food?  In all honestly, I do not care.  None of the things we did  caused additional harm.  I am over the obsessing.

As a mom that is prone to worry, it is hard to see light.  It feels so lonely to carry the burdens of the minutia of running a home and little lives.  Couple the worry with lack of sleep, and it really does feel like whatever milestone you are trying to reach will.never.come.

Raising littles is a series of groundhog days.  While it appears that each day is the same, and I will never emerge from the weeds, I have to believe that new days come.  In the moment of crisis (or perceived crisis), the situation seems so very permanent.  I remember thinking my kid will never sleep through the night, will never walk, will never talk.   Logic gets lost.  Time S L O W S.

I need to really believe that it is all just a series of seasons, and remember that each new day brings hope of milestones met.  I need faith to believe that today is not my tomorrow.  After all, we are overdue to begin potty training and at some point we will have to move Trevor from a crib to a toddler bed.  Just pray.