I am almost finished with the play room, or rather I will be finished with it before next week. I completed the sort of Julia's toys, games, puzzles, educational material, and art supplies a few days ago. Some of it still needs labels. The really bigger job of my desk -- cleaning, sorting, etc, has gone slowly because I cleaned out my three file drawers, organized them, and incorporated the plastic box files that I've used for the past year to pay bills, keep track of insurance, manage time and therapies. It is funny that I have rationally given myself a year to get my life in order and yet, I hold the irrational hope that I can rush through the sorting and ordering of stuff. Everything takes longer than I anticipated, especially the finding perfect places and labeling. This is probably a good metaphor for the internal work I am doing as well. So far, I am somewhat patient with myself as I struggle through but I suspect that I will become less so as the year wears on.
For days this week, Julia's therapists are the only adults that I have to talk to. I wonder if I am cloistering myself and if I need to reach out to friends and gather them closer for some noisy interaction. At the same time, I am aware that I need the silence of myself. I need writing and contemplation. I am dealing with chatter and this is a learning for me.