Morning broke in a stutter dance as if it straight out of a John Hughes script. Sixteen Candles. Breakfast Club. Take your pick. Up at 1 am and then intervals after, I slipped between infant cries and dreams. D and the boys woke later and by the time I finally rose, breakfast was over and the mad rush to shower, drop L off at school, then get C to the doctors to confirm that yes, indeed, conjunctivitis was the culprit for his swollen squinty eye. Sunlight streamed into the living room casting silhouettes on the wall. We moved at light speed, looking up into the past.
I’m giving this yearlong project a spin. Undoubtedly, I will fall and pick up again. Knowing this makes it easier. Still, I plan to show up to record a short photo and story of my day. You’re welcome to join me. I’d love it really. We can give each other high fives and geek out with a hashtag (#ayearofus), not because everyone is doing it, but because we’re doing it, together. Showing up every damn day to make this creative habit real.