Rainy Days.

I like my house.
I like my children.
Why is spending time in the house with the children so tough?

Here in Northern California it knows how to rain.
This from a girl who grew up in a country where rain is synonymous.
Rain here is the type that bounces back 2 feet off the ground.
It also likes to settle in. We are in day five of a predicted ten day stretch.
I have already run out of rainy day ideas and patience.

I can just see my parents faces. The look of exasperation. "You have a room full of toys - go play."
It's possible that I am wearing that face and stealing their line.

Trying to set up activities that will keep both the six year and the baby happy, is so difficult.
Setting them up with different, age appropriate, activities is pointless.
The baby only wants to do what her sister is doing.

We have crafted, baked, read, played games and dress up. Rode scooters in the house.
Wrote and performed a play. Watched a movie. Taken a really long bath.
We have been to the mall and the library. We have dressed for rain and jumped in puddles.
I have exhausted my repertoire.
Frankly, I have exhausted myself.

The house feels small. Tiny in fact. The children seem bigger and louder.
How am I going to make it through another FIVE days?

I can't pick up toys fast enough. Every room in the house is messy.
I know that one day they will be out of this house and I will look back on these days with envy.
I know that I am lucky to have this time.
I know that I shouldn't care and just enjoy this time with my girls.

I do and then.... I don't anymore and the mess is overwhelming.
I love playing tea party and dress up but then.... I want to stop and think grown up thoughts.

I know there's no fix, this is the life of a parent.
The life I chose and that I love and the life that sometimes makes me crazy, bored and claustrophobic in my own home.
Time to go nibble some toes and remind myself of exactly why I do this.