Coming Home

Our family is back together again. All the pieces of the puzzle are recovered and the box seems to be shaking already.

Transition is hard. I remember from birthing babies that transition was the most difficult part of the birthing process.

It wasn't a quiet homecoming, it was coming home to a loud, crazy year-end party with over 30 people running around. His own coming of age as he now becomes one of them officially, not just the pastor's son allowed to hang out.

Trying to fit in with friends that haven't been seen for a few months. Fitting back into the sibling pecking order. Fitting back into a bedroom. Fitting back under parent's authority.

I'm not sure yet how to deal with it all. I'm exhausted from the marathon of the last few weeks and months. Seeding is finally finished, spraying is under way, usually almost done by now. Holiday weeks looming on the horizon with long lists of to-do's before then. Youth activities are one less thing to think about. Homeschooling is done for the year and the reports are in. So now it is gardens and packing and in the midst of that re-learning how to handle my little storm cloud son.

How can a person be so full of gentleness and tension at the same time? Why does the tension had to come out like it does? How do I deal with it all without turning into a control-freakish paranoid crazy woman?

I don't know.

Perhaps I'll start with sleep.