I could have spent this entire week alone and I still wouldn’t have had enough time to myself.
My dreams have been vivid and raw. I wake coated with a thin layer of sweat, my hair curling gently as it begins to dry. I feel as if I have not slept at all. Tiredness scrapes at the very bones of me and I ache in a way I’m not sure I could even begin to describe. I feel as if I might split at the seams, my body tearing with weariness and fatigue.
Friends have lifted my spirits: A gorgeous soul who is possibly the most generous person I’ve ever met – a woman who is so invested in the lives of my boys I can never give enough thanks. And my oldest friend who I might spend too few hours with, but whom I love the very bones of. I can’t wait to spend time with both of them next month. These are the people that make my spirits lift when the days are long and grey.
The boys, as always, leave me breathless. Their sheer passion for life inspires me. They cycle, cheeks flushed, with such enthusiasm it makes me want to join them. They watch the snow falling from the windows, hoping it will settle, but it never does. I love how they’re never discouraged. They still talk amongst themselves, of giant snowmen and snowball fights, holding tight to the hope that they’ll get the chance to play.
I love their persistence and determination and the fact that they don’t care if anyone else approves of their favourite things. They don’t care if you like what they’re wearing, or that you don’t know which Ninja Turtle is which. They don’t care what religion you are, or which political party you support. They exist in perfect bubbles of love, with no hatred or prejudice – and we could learn so much from them.