The sky was full of promise tonight.

I’ve had many days much like this sky–days when I couldn’t feel the sun, couldn’t see it, but if I looked good and hard, I knew it was there–hidden behind thick clouds and spilling a tiny preview of the brilliance to come.

*****

Days when I’m frantically flying to finish tasks and chisel away at to-do lists? You’d never know it by my actions.

Take this week.

Setting: Today, late afternoon, master bath (that happens to be littered with clothes, a lone sandal and a headless Polly Pocket). I’m submerged neck-high in warm bubbles and casually flipping through the Garnet Hill catalogue, dog-earring pages with quilts I can’t afford, a gauzy skirt I don’t need and a model’s hairstyle I want to duplicate. Brett walks in, cocks his head, raises his brow.

Brett: “I thought you said you have more to do than you’ve ever had in your entire life.”

Me: (still casually flipping pages and making a point not to look at him) “This is true. I said that.” (flip page, flip page)

Brett smiles, turns and walks away. He knows me too well. Not to mention he thinks he’s going to prove me wrong when, ten minutes before we head to the airport tomorrow, I pathetically fall to the ground and cry that we can’t go because I’m not ready. But this has never happened. And despite the fact I indeed said I’ve never had more to do in my entire life, I was lying. I’ve had more and even then, I’ve finished it. And took time for a bath.

And yes, while I yearn for the relaxed mindlessness of THIS or THIS again soon, there’s something about restless diligence and prioritizing to-dos that make me aware and present just as hammocks and adirondacks challenge me to be aware in present in a different way–or maybe it’s really the same.

It’s a balance challenge. And Lord knows I love a challenge. So, during my most chaotic schedules, I find myself not only pushing myself to finish tasks but searching for “escape hatch” rituals to balance out the stress. In the process, I realize all the little things that ground me most.

Answer e-mails.

Break to nurse.
And by break to nurse, I mean forget about everything in the universe for just a moment. Fixating on her chubby fingers comfortingly pawing, her trance-like slump into my arms, her lock-eyed gaze and my favorite–the way she stretches her leg with impressive calisthenics and hooks her fingers over her toes. Who needs a security blanket when you have huggable leg?

Switch laundry. Fold clothes.

Break to have breakfast playdate with friend.

Nella and the pug had a face off. No words. No barking. Just a silent stare down. The dog won.

Return phone calls. Edit a few photos. Clean up bottle of balsamic vinegar that spilled in pantry.

Break to play outside with the hose.

Answer more e-mails. Fold clothes. Unpack New York suitcase. Step in a ball of smooshed PlayDoh. Oh wait, did I say PlayDoh? Clarify: dog poop. There’s nothing like sinking your foot into a warm pile of PlayDoh. Dog poop.

Break to play Elefun outside.

Have you played it? It’s–how do I say this without sounding Valley Girl?–nope can’t do it. It’s totally super fun. Every time we play this, I get strangely competitive with myself. Like if last time I caught six butterflies, something bad’s going to happen if I don’t at least catch seven. And my heart is racing and I’m anxiously sweating, oblivious of my kids, while I’m diving with my outstretched net to catch these fluttering pieces of plastic like they’ll detonate if they hit the ground.

So, I suppose it’s noble to say I play these games to give my kids a good time but sometimes? Sometimes, I play them for me. Thankfully, Lainey likes it too.

For the record, I caught ten in one swoop today. Lucky green net.

Work on Lainey’s party. Switch another laundry load. Lay out piles of clothes to be packed.

Break to get the mail (an event, let me tell you), have a snack and smile as I watch my kids play while I pretend I’m the past version of myself who dreamed one day she’d have littles, looking in at what’s to come.

Damn that Ghost of Christmas Future delivers. Tiny Tim just done went and lost his crutches…he’s doing a happy dance.

Lainey sorts all mail before we get to touch it. It’s the rule. Hers, of course. I once broke it. Let’s just say I won’t break it again.

Write. Dinner. Clean. More packing.

Break to swim with my girl whose “watch me, mom!” and “mom, mom, look!” make me feel needed in a way that pulls out the best compliments, the biggest smiles and the most genuine of praise.

Run to store, pack toiletries, pre-bed rituals.

Break for a moon walk.
Bonding and reflecting, we take them sometimes with both kids, sometimes with just Nella, sometimes with just the big sister. Last night it was just me and Lainey, and we made it past the second street light, through the mob of loitering june bugs, and over the repaired sidewalk crack that used to trip us, when I looked down to see she was sound asleep.

We didn’t even have a chance to look for Orion’s Belt.

Edit photos. Compile thoughts. Scribble words. Blog. Except I don’t know whether to italicize or bold print that. Because it’s both a task and an escape hatch.

The line blurs a lot really–what’s a task and what is grounding? I have to do laundry and clean, write and answer e-mails, but just when I’m ready to complain about the monotony and the responsibility of it all, I find the “to-do” elements are an important part of my life too. Call me crazy but folding laundry can be grounding. And going to the post office makes me feel like a capable adult. I connect with people when I answer e-mails, and picking out clothes to pack in our suitcase reminds me of childhood paper dolls…I have two real-life dolls and choosing what they’re going to wear makes me happy.

Or maybe that’s just the unicorns talking.

Either way, there are stresses, there are challenges, but there is always the escape hatch of sinking into a tub of bubbles mid-day and flipping through a catalogue.

And fake smiles, a right of passage for three-year-olds.

Comes in two varieties: ferocious teeth or grimacing tight-lip. We like options.

I have two little presents for you.

One: photo questions? Aspiring to snap better pictures of your babies? Well, well. There’s a new book out. It’s fabulous. The art alone in it (photographer Stacy Wasmuth) will have you drooling. Mamarazzi: Every Mom’s Guide to Photographing Kids.

There’re some familiar faces in it too.

I’m honored to have an essay tucked between the work of some amazing photographers I admire. I got my book in the mail today, flipped to see our little part and then sat on the couch and looked through the rest of it and realized this book is dripping with fantastic advice for capturing genuine emotion, learning the photography basics, editing your photos, and displaying them in your home. I can’t wait to pour over it some more tomorrow on the plane!

And finally, it’s May–bring the swimsuits on. I’m still wearing my favorite suit from Popina but just scored a couple more from the Portland swimsuit boutique and our new sponsor. They are amazing. Not to be all talkin’ about butts on the blog, but I’m going to talk about butts on the blog. Dude, the butts of these suits are gloves. Bootie huggers and extremely comfortable. I love their retro swimwear styles (hello? yellow buttercup and polka dot and ruffles?), but Popina also features bikinis, tankinis, you name it. The suits are extremely well made and flattering for all body types. Loving my new white maillot.

Suit up now! One lucky commenter on this post will win a free suit of her choice. But tell me, what is your least favorite to-do task, and what is your procrastinatory weapon of choice?
I take baths and make crafts to pretend I don’t have to clean my house or go to the post office.

Also, there were many questions re: Lainey’s Fourth Year Book. Shutterfly Book questions are answered in the Photography F.A.Q., but I’ll be adding it to list of things to expound on later.