We are enjoying some quiet days at home, the six of us. No plans, just us, faffing about at home and on the farm. The kids are all a bit under the weather, all of them are coughing, Falk has had it quite bad, so we are slowly recovering from that. 

Playing with Christmas presents, reading new books, doing small kitchen projects, sleeping in the middle of the day, taking baths whenever one feels like it. Snuggling. Doing jigsaw puzzles. Drawing. Finding new films to watch. I cherish these days, and I feel it in my bones how badly I have needed them. Being all of us, and doing nothing. 

It's like this: When Ulv still had the tube in, and still was a newborn, when everything still felt scary and unstable, I had this unwavering strength. Yes, I cried, and yes I felt like I was going through hell sometimes, but I still felt able to go on, full of guts and determination. Now, when we are out on the other side of that, when he is tube-free, happy, chunky and actually quite a normal baby, one like any other (except that he is especially cute, of course), I have become so unbelievably tired. Like, tired all the way through, sleepy and empty and just exhausted. It's like I can finally let myself relax, and that's when I feel how straining these last months have been. How much it has cost. 

So yes, these slow Christmas days are much needed, and I think they will set the standard for how the new year will begin, too. Slowly, with care and love and time and space.