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 Today was a day for cleaning and Instacart and, I guess, revelations. It's been "the greenest winter" we've had in awhile, which has meant cloudy skies most of the morning and afternoon with the sun breaking through in the evenings. Around 8, 9:00 PM. These would be beautiful skies for watching the stars in the lower 48.

But I'm trying to simulate a cozy evening, so I have the blinds drawn and inside lights on.

My parents have set off on their (final?) trek back to Texas to gather the last of their things and bring them up to Alaska. With everything that's happened in the past few weeks, there's mainly been radio silence.

My dad being careful not to make eye contact or initiate conversation on the fishing-trip-that-wasn't. Them asking me to watch their orchid and check the house daily via text message after setting off on their trip.

Today was better, but yesterday I was stricken with the feeling of wanting to throw up for most of the day. Hiking helped. It's overall better with the kids now that I'm not working at the preschool anymore.

I am more patient, but most importantly better rested and somewhat better at spotting patterns. There are lots of moments where I can stop, pull the camera back and realize: You're overwhelmed. You. You are.

Feeling angry and like shutting down when we're on a hike and so close to the car but they can't cross the portal to the trail to the parking lot to the car doors to the car to the - they need the visual cue of you walking away to realize that it's really time to leave. And that particular thing? Sucks when there are fucking bears about.

Because bears don't care. Look at 'em. They don't care.

Or at the library when it's crammed full of kids of all ages and mine are doing just fine really, but it still feels overwhelming because I know it's adding to the overall chaos, and I think I'm constantly being judged by the adult blurs walking all around me (blurs because I acknowledge they're as tucked away in their versions of reality as I am in mine - they don't really take me in; probably). And what do you do, really?

Query: how do I set boundaries in situations versus just carve out space to...exist? There's this vacillation between being angry that the boundaries are being violated, and being scared to set the boundaries in the first place, and being tired because of the previous two things.

My mother-in-law slipped and fell transitioning from a stool to a bed. She asked me not to tell S. A bit of an unethical conundrum. I think I've settled on: she's an adult, she can choose when and if to tell S. I don't want her to get hurt, but I see she is making modifications so as to be healthier and manage her mobility issues. Her reluctance to tell him could be: an urge towards independence (he's told her that we're moving in as soon as she falls again), not wanting to deal with his reaction (he's having a hard time with the idea of them getting older and this comes out in, yup, anger), not wanting to acknowledge that it's happened at all. She said she forgot to tell her doctor about it and it happened a few days ago.

Maybe I made the wrong decision - I quite often do.

Goodnight party people. Time to deal with car tires, bike tires, and dress rehearsals tomorrow. <3