Lately, friends and acquaintances have been noticing the dark circles under my eyes and my propensity for bursting into tears.  I hope that baby is letting you sleep at night, they say.

Well, my exhaustion has nothing to do with Felix.

Lately, my life has consisted of laying bricks, doing laundry, digging holes, cleaning dishes, carrying rocks, wiping bums, making pots, making meals, all with the little one in tow, on a couple of hours of sleep each night.  We are our work-force, and the nature of this project is 24 hours a day.  It’s a long story.

Everything is a bit frayed at the edges.  Horus and Treva are making do, but the totality rubs just a little bit.

Lately, I have been indulging in a smidgen of self-pity.

But stepping back, the reality is quite different.  How lucky we are.  How lucky I am.  I am an artist and I am a mother.  I’m doing it all–and while it’s not always pretty, everything is fine.

If I haven’t returned your call or your email, or your comment in this space, just know that I got it, I love you, I’ll be in touch very soon.  As soon as the wood is gone.

To you three, who sat with me while I wept the other day: thank you.  To my family who have been working so hard to save this whole crazy situation: thank you.

I *am* hard to nurture.  I know.