But by the end of the day I am worn out physically and emotionally. We played hard, we cleaned, we learned. There was a ton of craziness, hyperactivity, argumentativeness. And at many points, the soundtrack was just too much to handle. It's this way every day. I feel like I want to make a recording of just a minute out of my day, just the audio, and put it online to receive sympathy from many people. Because it's hard, and it's crazy. And it's hard (I know I already said it)
Yet as soon as I've given the little terrors their kisses and cuddles and sent them off to bed where their Daddy tucks them in and reads them stories, the exact same noises I've heard all day, those same noises that had me begging God for an advance on next weeks patience just to get me through the next 5 minutes, those sounds are suddenly beautiful to me. I can hear them just now in the other room, Turtle is crying and whining, Kaya is being snarky and picking fights with everyone, Zoe is crashing into things, Lana is randomly spitting out facts from The World Of Lana's Head, Rene is sighing and I think counting to ten in his head. And it fills my heart with such pleasure. The kids haven't changed, they're doing precisely what they always do. It's just my perspective that changed.
It's like in a movie then they zoom to the wide shot and start playing the background music, and you see the big picture all at once, and it sort of draws a conclusion on the whole scene.
I realized tonight that I need to learn to zoom out more, in life. To try not to focus on the smoothie that just took a nosedive off the table and is being trodden into the floor by a stampede of little feet, or the cereal being dumped on the floor for the umpteenth time. But to zoom out, maybe play some background music in my head, and see my kids, violently enjoying life in all it's ups and downs; learning and spilling and growing and fighting and interacting and whining and laughing. And aging. So very fast. And one day I will be looking back on this all, from a wide angle view (as hindsight often is), and I know I'll miss this. I don't want to miss out while I've got it. I'm going to try to remember to zoom out, to see the big picture and enjoy it for all that it is.