domestic dizzy dance

It's a beautiful Saturday night in July and I am bringing my little Julien to bed at 8:00 PM. I am laying beside him watching the soft oarnge late day sun light play on the backside of our dark blue curtains. We contemplated going down town or to a playground or park. We talked about eating out on church street and getting ice cream. In the end I made spinach and cheese quesidillas cut out like stars (Lukas' suggestion....oh and one was cut out like a mushroom) and Jorg went shopping with Lukas at Shaws. This is our life these days....we are swirling inside this domestic dance. The morning spent mopping and sweeping, dusting and vacuming and in the evening we fall asleep with the kids.
This two kid world is wild. I feel like I wake up and hit the ground running. Make the food, clean it up, pack the snacks, clear the toys, hold the baby, nurse the baby, change the baby, in the car, out of the car, try to do some interesting thing with Lukas so he doens't go out of his mind. Try to do something so I don't go out of my mind. The other day I had a mini panic attack. It was so hot that my head was spinning and dizzy. I got in the car to take Lukas to a play at the library. The car felt like it had no air in it. I actually had to pull over and put my head between my legs to catch my breath. I told Lukas I had dropped something on the floor so I wouldn't alarm him. It was then that I thought I don't know if I can go on being responsible for these two little beings every day. I need a break. I literally need to catch my breath. Yet, I don't want to wish it away. I have so many precious and tender moments that I am saturated in sweet and clingy potential nostolgia. I try to cram these moments into my memory box. I stash them in corners of my cloudy mind. I can't imagine I can truly hold onto all these cuddles and conversations since I am unable to remember basic things like why I went upstairs or what appointment I had or if I took the vitamin yet or brushed my teeth. How can I remember all the clever and tender things that Lukas says if I have to write myself notes which say "put laundry in the dryer" directly after I start the washer because I know I will forget until the mildew smell crawls up the stairs of the basement. Or when I have to go and see if my toothbrush is wet to know if I brushed yet. Or when I ask where my keys are only to realize that they are already in the ignition of the car. Oh well, if I can't remember then I guess I will just have to be here. I will have to really be in this moment with all its messy, frantic, imperfect edges. Despite its richness the cake just won't last. So eat it now. Eat it up. Gorge until your dizzy head can't take any more. I guess that is the only way.