Tuesday afternoon

The big kids didn't nap today so in an unprecedented move I opened up the laptop and told them I was going to do a little work. Immediately they flocked to my sides and said "I want to do a little work", lingeringly touching the keyboard.

Me first, I said.

Now a new show is on and they are locked in place, eyes glazed. What is happening in their/our brains when we watch TV? I love TV very much. I watch too much. I mentally beat myself up about it. And I also rely on it to soothe my tired mind. It helps me stop.

What does that look like when I'm raising my kids? Does it need to be a good show? How much is too much? Would I rather see them playing, using their imaginations outside? Yes. I would rather that for myself. Maybe just in theory? I don't really know. I just feel so. . .tired. But I have somewhat distant memories of being outside in the world, feeling my body and insides light up with joy and the connectedness that comes from trees and water and dirt roads.

Losing the nap, I will take the necessary 30 minutes to answer a work email. To look at the possibility of me and my husband going away for a night or two. Because it feels impossible to imagine so that means we need to make it happen. To check Facebook. Another guilty pleasure, an addiction that I know is out of control. And yet. . .it is a community for me.

In some ways an additional layer to newly-forming relationships with other moms of young kids who live nearby. Who are raising their kids with me.

In some ways the only connection I have with women who live across the country, all of whom I knew before. Before marriage. Before any of us had kids. In past versions of ourselves. In our blessed, rich-tasting youth that seems to fall in layers through the decades that came before kids. And they knew me. We are a web of cheering each other on. Of eyes meeting across a screen to raise an eyebrow and say "Preach, sister." a

My family in Vermont. Even my parents and siblings in nearby cities. We connect in person. Via text. Sometimes emails. And we watch each other and learn each other via Facebook. I don't know what I would do without any of these people--my funny, spread-out, many-layered tribe.

And this blog in many way exists because of Facebook. Because I can write a handful of paragraphs and throw them into the winds of digital connectedness and people can read what I think about. I'm grateful for that.

One of the little girls is starting to wake and the cartoon is almost over. It's a gorgeous day outside. I haven't written the email yet. Time to go.