It’s so hard for me to write about my days, sometimes. On the surface it seems unbearably boring – an endless cycle of laundry, dishes, nappies, baths, nose wiping and tantrums. But beneath the surface of that daily stream is an undercurrent that is deep and meaningful. The larger cycles of conflict and peacefulness, acceptance, frustration and endless striving to extend myself in order to give these two girls what they need to grow and mature into their own selves, while they strive to overcome their own challenges. Three teeth erupting at once. Learning to crawl. Jealously and frustration.

What I am trying to say, I think, is that today was a good day. I didn’t get angry and frustrated. Beatrice didn’t scream at me. We went for a walk and spotted a woodpecker hammering away at a dead tree in the forest, and when we came home and looked it up we learned that it was a pileated woodpecker. It was the first really good day after a lot of very trying days, and it feels like the change in seasons, like fresh green shoots rising up out of the damp earth.

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