I want to remember. All these little things. Sometimes I have time or space in my heart to journal, but I have not in the last few weeks.

I want to remember Caleb remembering Daddy. It breaks my heart to see him in pain, and to hear how he misses Daddy. I want to stop those conversations and prolong them at the same time.

Being a mother is exhausting. Even with an amazing capable sister living with you to help. It is so hard. I've been in the kitchen all day it feels. And I haven't even made elaborate dinners. No dishwasher, and a little baking make for hours in front of the sink/counters. Cora is now crying again. after falling asleep an hour ago. Last night she stayed up crying until almost eleven. This is exhausting.

When putting Caleb to bed just now, he told me, "I've been wanting you all day!" I'm so sorry, bud. And I haven't even done anything "for myself." Just laundry and kitchen duties and bills during naptime. We even made muffins together, he and I. And still he misses me. We've all felt off and cranky all day. We just got back from a bittersweet (mostly sweet) trip back to Santa Cruz, where we saw some of our dearest friends and stayed in our old home for a few days. Coming back to the leafless trees, cooler wind, and early nightfall is depressing. And that's the least of it. We all MISS our old life. Most of all our Daddy Trevor. Most of all him. We went from the definition of a good life to this jarring reality. This will be the frozen tundra soon, our new town. We MISS our old life, of merely 10 weeks ago.

I so often don't know what to do. But talking about Daddy is always good, even if it's hard. So, I told Caleb all the things that Daddy loved to do with him. "He loved to make pancakes with you, he loved to play baseball with you, he loved to ride bikes with you." Caleb's little voice incessantly asking "and what else did he do? And what else? And what else?" Oh it hurt. Finally I couldn't anymore "That's all I'll tell for now." And then sweet Caleb picked it up. "Daddy always said 'can!'" (Trevor would tell him that he CAN do anything, and that we don't say can't.) "Daddy throwed me the ball and I would hit it with a bat!" "Daddy pushed me in the swing. He chased me in the park, and I said 'na-na-na-na-na! You can't get me!" Oh, this hurt even more. Caleb remembering things about Daddy. For himself. These were not MY memories, but his. It was dark in his bedroom, so I couldn't see his face, but I could hear the delight in his voice. He was prancing and leaning against the bedrail. Not tired at all.

These joint memories of he and daddy are numbered. Daddy will not "do" anything else with him. My heart hurts so much. I hear Cora calling for me in next room, wanting to be put to bed (the first time). I ache to stop these memories and the pain they bring, but I also want to linger with Caleb in his process. I want him to feel safe to be sad, to remember Daddy with joy, to be confused and hurt as to why Daddy died. How do I take care of him, and Cora, and myself (and not take advantage of my sister in the meantime?) Eventually, after lots of memories, and extra snuggles, and several times tucking him in, I left Caleb's room to go get Mary to snuggle with him for longer while I nursed Cora to sleep. We were supposed to finish the laundry together while starting a new show (Parenthood), but I'm so tired. And I really wanted to get these memories down.

No big moral or anything tonight. Just tired and love my boy. And girl.