So many things I could be writing about...

I could be writing about my beautiful precious big girl, how amazing it was yesterday to watch her deal with a really difficult social situation with sensitivity and grace. How confident and strong she is and how giving and forgiving. How honoured I am to see her grow like this, and how blessed we are to have the freedom and trust to let her pick her way day by day. I could write all of that, with all of those daily little illustrations that remind me how REAL and present it all is.

I could be writing about the unmitigated exhuberant joy of my crazy lively Two. How funny her new chattering ramblings are and how terribly she teases us all by talking completely at cross-purposes to the conversation at hand. How strange it is when one day you just wake up and see a baby as a child and realise how little they now express those more intense attachment needs they used to have. How quickly it goes, and makes way for something like the sweetest most intense friendship. I could write about her for hours, too.

I could be writing about the last couple of days of difficult counter-culture conversations with all kinds of people - conversations that made my head hurt, made me laugh out loud, made me think, made me question, and made me feel like an alien in this world in so many ways. How strange it is to have found such a calm place after such a struggle; how fragile this peace seems as though it might be broken or solidified by the presence of another new person, how good and how hard the waiting is. The pleasures of this strange people-centred life, and the chaos of it. I could write about being different and yet finding a happy New Normal where we can rest and BE.

I could write about finding space for myself, the crafting that is going on around here, the beautiful things that have been made and re-made for the blessing of three small children in such a TINY repayment for the joy they are bringing me. I could write about work that doesn't feel like work, or about those times when it really DOES feel like work, and all the bits in between where I actually seem to escape and let them parent themselves altogether - restoring my balance in an hour of constructing a beautiful something out of raw materials. I could write plenty about crafting, I'm sure.

But what I really want to say, for today, for myself, for the record... Is just that sometimes there is a moment of clarity when it all, even the impossible and messy bits, seems Right. This, here, is where I'm meant to be.