The middle of nowhere.

For all intents and purposes, I had a really great week.

I had my kids home all week. My in laws (whom I love) came over for Christmas. I’ve had a bizarrely great relationship with my mother for the last week or two. She sent Christmas presents, which she hasn’t been able to for many years now and I sent her presents.

But amidst what was goodness, today I still feel forgotten.

I don’t know what part is truth and what part is perception. But it probably doesn’t really matter. At the end of the day (or the beginning, as it were) it still feels kinda crushing.


I’ll wait up for you, dear.

I had such a nice day with my husband.

This sounds a little odd to say, seeing as it was a day filled with family and goings on and the neverendingness.

But also. I had such a nice day with my husband.

Today wasn’t really about the time we spent with each other. It was about the effortlessness of fluidity. It was about how we could be in a room together or a room apart and we still managed things in quiet synchronicity.

He did the dishes and cleaned the bathroom. While I wrapped presents and got Christmas stuff ready. He changed the cat’s litter while I vacuumed. He chilled in the living room with some family, while I chilled in the kitchen with other members of the family. We would meet up and we would separate.

We flowed.

I didn’t have nearly enough time with him today. I didn’t touch him enough or kiss him enough or take downtime with him enough. But still, I felt like we were in this together. On a day that is typically chaotic and intense and overwhelming, it felt easy to navigate family Christmas with him. He made my day.