East Bound and Downtown...
I don't blog well amidst chaos, not that this has been that exactly, no...but it's been busy, and busy translates to less thoughtful, more survivalist tactics. Blogging is certainly a thoughtful pursuit, and there's been precious few moments of solitude to type more than a few brief missives about half-nonsensical things that matter little to me or anyone else. It's been a busy trip, that's for sure.
It struck me today, staring out of someone else's window at the snow falling, that I need much more solitude than I typically allow myself. It's been a full house, and fun, but at times stressful and way beyond relaxed. The adults manage things fine, but the girls wander between BFFs and warring chieftains. There are moments of disagreement, smalls fits of possessiveness and demands, and occasional bouts of ambivalence toward one another. Probably not much different from any adults only in smaller, less understanding four year old frames, and so more dramatically inclined. We've all embraced the good, deflected the bad, and dealt with the ugly across seven days so far and we're still having fun.
We push Zoey a lot, we know. We demand a lot from her tiny little body...miles of walking, inconsistent meal times, a random mixture of adult and child-centric endeavors, and we're lucky she's as good a sport as she is...but we push it, and we know it. That only leaves others the burden of keeping up, or venturing away on their own, and our friend, Mel, has been Olympic in that regard. Zed's strides are double those of her little friend, Elle's, and Zo doesn't nap, and Zo eats very little, and roars through moods and parent demands...they're very different girls, and still there's Elle tramping around mid-town, or scooting around the park or trudging up subway stairs...a hesitant champion, but a champ no less. I'm sure we've to a lesser extent thrown Zoey off of schedule than Elle, but both have bore the weight of adults hell-bent on good Mexican food, Manhattan shopping, and making quick train transfers while dragging little bodies behind. They deserve medals, and instead, often get our sharp words about getting along, and not being selfish or demanding. It's very much the pot calling the kettle black and I can admit it.
With less than 24 hours left in the city, and Maggie rocking a cold and a slight fever, Zo's nose pouring boogs all over, Elle dropping asleep like a narcoleptic marathoner, and Daddy seemingly coming down with something, it's only June and Mel who seem to be left standing, and after seven days of grueling Brooklyning, it's no surprise.