I think back to last summer it was a very challenging time. The healing process from the madness had started but transitioning to life as normal felt like a space shuttle re-entering the atmosphere and we were having to fight just not to burn up (I wrote about it here if you care to read). It felt like life kept ripping off my scabs before they were healed. Each day, I tried to manage all while fighting to find some extra space to make sense of the chaos that was still swirling in my heart and my head. I had been feeling and like most new things, it was hard. A year has passed. A lot has changed. The scabs have healed and I am left with very visible scars. Chloe is potty trained and and can feed herself without making a mess so there is a little less busy work for me. Yet, Claire is heavier, stiffer, she shakes and stops breathing more often. It is hard to see how over time, the chasm gets bigger, one child becoming dependent and requiring less while the other seems to need more help. The gap doesn't rip me into pieces every day like it used to. There is an odd rhythm of crazy that fills our days. It generally includes periods of laughter, community and strength along with heartache, loneliness and weakness, some how all woven peacefully together without too strong of a sense of being overwhelmed. I'm sure that there is more going on that I am absorbing that I just haven't rested enough to know what it is yet. For today, I am taking solace that this summer, we are operating in survival mode, not crisis mode. All efforts go to the basics, eating, sleeping, therapy and so on. Energy is conserved whenever possible and you just keep putting one foot in front of the other. But it doesn't feel like the ceiling is caving in or that the heat of re-entry might burn me up before I get my feet on the ground. I must say, that is a great feeling to not be experiencing.