Showing posts with label change. Show all posts
Showing posts with label change. Show all posts
Thursday, September 4, 2014
Emilie's First Day of Preschool!
How is this little lady growing up so quickly?! She loves school and had a great first day!! She's so excited to have Mrs. Naughton, who was one of Marin's first teachers as well.
Friday, October 18, 2013
Tres
So many people ask me, "How is it with three?" Here's my take: It's really just the same as life with two, only doubled. More diapers, less sleep, less time to get things done, more running around. With two, you're doing these things already, so three is just bringing another along for the ride. And that's just what John does. He's along for the ride.
And with his crazy sisters, totally insane mama and our crazy schedules, the "along for the ride" attitude is going to serve him well. Poor guy has no other choice. When Marin was born we took leisurely stroller walks through the park. We read books for hours. Literally hours. We perused neighborhood book stores and shops. When Emilie was born there was some of that, but a little less. But now, to peruse a book store means that I have a four year old and a two year old in tow, on top of the i-could-start-screaming-and-demand-to-eat/blow-out-my-outfit-any-minute newborn. The "big kids" are likely pulling on me asking to buy something, one or both will inevitably have to use the potty, and they're both probably running in circles singing pre-school songs. I'll spell it out for you- that's not peaceful. But it's not to say we don't do it. We do it plenty. It's just with a lot of talks in the car first about being respectful in public places, the old "this is not a jungle gym" talk, and let's just be real: there's also bribery. I am not above bribery. If you are, and you have a toddler, you are either Jesus or stupid. Sorry if that's harsh.
I was at a mother's group recently and we were listening to a speaker. It was a mom who had been there and survived. Her children are now all in their late 20's. She stated out asking who in the room had a toddler. When we raised our hands, she joked that everyone else in the room should pray for us. She said that the only difference between a toddler and a teenage is height and weight. In both cases, she said, you find yourself asking your child, "what were you thinking?!" Moving on to the next parenting challenge, she asked who had a child at home who was potty training. I found myself raising my hand again. Finally she asked who in the room had an infant that they were likely up in the middle of the night with, worrying about every little milestone and was likely breastfeeding. Raised my hand again. I'm like a circus act. A lot of balls in the air, a lot to juggle. But it was good to see that my hand wasn't the only one that went up all those times.
Sometimes I feel badly for John. He only knows me to be crazy. I am certain he thinks I yell too much. Marin didn't see me yell for almost 3 years. And by then, Emilie was already 6 months old. Poor John probably has partial hearing loss from hearing me scream at his sisters even while he was in the womb. Yeah, I gotta work on that. I always start out calm, and then by the third time I have to ask you to put your shoes on, I go a little wacky. John only knows a crazy run around schedule. Maybe after both of his sisters are in school full time we'll sit down and read books for hours, but it's not likely to happen before then. However, just when I start to feel badly for John's because of the circumstances of being the third child, I catch him smiling at his sisters who are crowded around him singing their favorite songs, or telling him, "You're so cute, JohnJohn!". And I know he's going to be alright. A good friend once told me that a sibling is the greatest gift you can ever give your kids. And it's so true. They are enamored with each other. But the real truth is that even with all the craziness (and, unfortunately the yelling), when my kids are all together in the same space it brings me incredible, inexplicable happiness. It's too bad we can't bottle it. Seeing my children together enjoying each other is literally the greatest joy of my life. Because one day, I won't be here, and all they'll have is each other. And they can sit together, drinking beers and talk about how they all drove mom crazy.
Friday, June 25, 2010
The Life Changer- For Realsies
(sidenote: Jason has since forbidden me from using the phrase "for realsies" ever again. Whatevs. Like he gets to say.)
A few weeks ago, I put all purchases on hold. Jason and I put all new projects in the backseat. I traded my impulse purchases at Target for the luxury of sitting in my pj pants just a little too long past breakfast.
I traded my pencil skirts, for colored pencils and unlimited afternoons of arts and crafts.
I quit my job.
When it came down to it, I wasn't entirely happy everyday doing what I spent more time on than anything else- and that was my job- when I was oodles of over-the-top happy when I was with Marin. And so, I decided to be happier.
That's the short of it. The long of it really is that my job has become increasingly less flexible, to the point where I have been seeing Marin for a half hour a day, and that is just for dinner, bath and bed. And that just isn't going to work. Jason and I decided that as long as I could curb my Home Goods obsession and swear off random Marin shopping (who me?!) that I could quit my job and stay home with Marin. I'm embarrassed to admit that I had to think about that for more than a second, but about a second and a half later, I had my mind made up. I've had one foot, two arms and about half my brain out the door ever since.
I really began thinking about this before Marin was born. Before we even knew if she would be a boy or a girl. Around that time, I had a snipit of this conversation with Molly over lunch at our favorite spot in the loop, equadistant from our offices. She said something that really stuck with me. She said, "I'm sure you are an excellent Lead Enrollment Rep (my current job), but I'm positive that you'll be an even better mom. And I just think we should spend our time doing the things we're best at." I have never forgotten that. How true is that? At the time though, I didn't really have an acurate, living little reminder of what I was missing. From the very first day that I returned to work, I have had that constant reminder.
I'm a little torn. I'm really gratful that I am able to stay home with Marin. And I am very excited for that oportunity. But I just think this is one of those many aspects of parenting where there is no right or wrong choice, rather just simply a choice you have to make that works for your family. And even then, you may never really know if you have made the right decision. You just have to do what you feel is right. I really see a lot of value in setting an example for children, and perhaps girls in particular, to work hard; have a career; make your own money. But I also believe in doing what you love. And what I love is being Marin's mommy.
And so yes, I'll miss the extra money. And the zen time on the train all to myself when I read non-mommy related materials (gasp!). I'll miss the work friends that I've made and the satisfaction of a good review. I'll miss the little old man that sits at the train station in Chicago every morning at his salvation army post. We smile at each other every day. I'll also miss the street performer who plays the saxaphone on the corner everyday and has the words "Sax and the City" written on his coffee can turned tip jar. And yes, of course I'll miss you, Home Goods.
But what I won't miss are Marin's giggles as she runs in the yard every day, and her sweet sleepy hugs as she wakes up from her naps. I won't miss the things she'll say and do as she grows and learns more about how life works. I won't miss a chance to take her to the park. I won't ever have to turn down a tea party for a teleconference. I won't miss an oportunity to kiss her skinned knees. I'll get to be a room mom and a field trip chaperone.
And don't get me wrong, I know that my new gig won't be easy. Need I be reminded of Marin's current temper trend of sitting right down in the street and pitching a fit when she doesn't get her way? How about how when I hold her hand to cross the street and she's unable to wriggle free, she takes her other hand and uses it to pry my hand off of hers. But as in a job, there are sacrifices and there are rewards, and I just happend to think that the rewards I'll reep while being with Marin everyday will way out weigh any that I could find in the office.
A few weeks ago, I came across an exerpt from Kristin van Ogtrop's new book "Just Let me Lie Down". Kristin is the editor of Real Simple magazine, (Laaaaaa! Can you hear the angles singing in the heavens?! I love Real Simple magazine.) The excerpt said this: "Question the idea that quitters never win. It's one thing you learned in kindergarten that is absolutely false. At a certain point, quitters really do win, especially when quitting means eliminating from your life a bad job. Let's be honest. How many of you have dreamed of writing this out-of-office email: "Having realized, after years of thankless toil, that this job/my coworkers/my measly paycheck/my crazy boss are no longer worth my valuable time, I will be out of the office for the rest of my life. If you need immediate assistance, find someone else?" If that's not a win, I don't know what is." Now, my job really wasn't that bad. For the most part, I really liked it. But when Marin was born, that, along with many other things in life, were forever changed.
I hope that I am making a decision that is a win. I hope that, as Molly said, I am going to be spending my time doing what I am best at. I hope that I don't have to resort to hiding shopping bags from Jason in my trunk. (Just kidding honey. Sortof.)
I gave a little over a months notice to my boss, but she wanted to keep it quiet for a few more weeks so she didn't have to field job inquiries just yet. It all went public today. My last day is July 9th. I have exactly eight working days left; not that I'm counting. ;)
I'm very excited to have playdoe in my hair. I can't wait to host holiday themed parties where we make take home crafts, like Valentine's for our Daddies. But I'm a little scared about the unknown. I'm a little nervous about whether or not I can hack it. I'm feeling very melancoly about this current life. But until then, I just have to dive right in feet first and do the best that I can. Lucky for me, my new boss is wonderfully kind, has a charming little toothy smile, and can't talk back yet.
A few weeks ago, I put all purchases on hold. Jason and I put all new projects in the backseat. I traded my impulse purchases at Target for the luxury of sitting in my pj pants just a little too long past breakfast.
I traded my pencil skirts, for colored pencils and unlimited afternoons of arts and crafts.
I quit my job.
When it came down to it, I wasn't entirely happy everyday doing what I spent more time on than anything else- and that was my job- when I was oodles of over-the-top happy when I was with Marin. And so, I decided to be happier.
That's the short of it. The long of it really is that my job has become increasingly less flexible, to the point where I have been seeing Marin for a half hour a day, and that is just for dinner, bath and bed. And that just isn't going to work. Jason and I decided that as long as I could curb my Home Goods obsession and swear off random Marin shopping (who me?!) that I could quit my job and stay home with Marin. I'm embarrassed to admit that I had to think about that for more than a second, but about a second and a half later, I had my mind made up. I've had one foot, two arms and about half my brain out the door ever since.
I really began thinking about this before Marin was born. Before we even knew if she would be a boy or a girl. Around that time, I had a snipit of this conversation with Molly over lunch at our favorite spot in the loop, equadistant from our offices. She said something that really stuck with me. She said, "I'm sure you are an excellent Lead Enrollment Rep (my current job), but I'm positive that you'll be an even better mom. And I just think we should spend our time doing the things we're best at." I have never forgotten that. How true is that? At the time though, I didn't really have an acurate, living little reminder of what I was missing. From the very first day that I returned to work, I have had that constant reminder.
I'm a little torn. I'm really gratful that I am able to stay home with Marin. And I am very excited for that oportunity. But I just think this is one of those many aspects of parenting where there is no right or wrong choice, rather just simply a choice you have to make that works for your family. And even then, you may never really know if you have made the right decision. You just have to do what you feel is right. I really see a lot of value in setting an example for children, and perhaps girls in particular, to work hard; have a career; make your own money. But I also believe in doing what you love. And what I love is being Marin's mommy.
And so yes, I'll miss the extra money. And the zen time on the train all to myself when I read non-mommy related materials (gasp!). I'll miss the work friends that I've made and the satisfaction of a good review. I'll miss the little old man that sits at the train station in Chicago every morning at his salvation army post. We smile at each other every day. I'll also miss the street performer who plays the saxaphone on the corner everyday and has the words "Sax and the City" written on his coffee can turned tip jar. And yes, of course I'll miss you, Home Goods.
But what I won't miss are Marin's giggles as she runs in the yard every day, and her sweet sleepy hugs as she wakes up from her naps. I won't miss the things she'll say and do as she grows and learns more about how life works. I won't miss a chance to take her to the park. I won't ever have to turn down a tea party for a teleconference. I won't miss an oportunity to kiss her skinned knees. I'll get to be a room mom and a field trip chaperone.
And don't get me wrong, I know that my new gig won't be easy. Need I be reminded of Marin's current temper trend of sitting right down in the street and pitching a fit when she doesn't get her way? How about how when I hold her hand to cross the street and she's unable to wriggle free, she takes her other hand and uses it to pry my hand off of hers. But as in a job, there are sacrifices and there are rewards, and I just happend to think that the rewards I'll reep while being with Marin everyday will way out weigh any that I could find in the office.
A few weeks ago, I came across an exerpt from Kristin van Ogtrop's new book "Just Let me Lie Down". Kristin is the editor of Real Simple magazine, (Laaaaaa! Can you hear the angles singing in the heavens?! I love Real Simple magazine.) The excerpt said this: "Question the idea that quitters never win. It's one thing you learned in kindergarten that is absolutely false. At a certain point, quitters really do win, especially when quitting means eliminating from your life a bad job. Let's be honest. How many of you have dreamed of writing this out-of-office email: "Having realized, after years of thankless toil, that this job/my coworkers/my measly paycheck/my crazy boss are no longer worth my valuable time, I will be out of the office for the rest of my life. If you need immediate assistance, find someone else?" If that's not a win, I don't know what is." Now, my job really wasn't that bad. For the most part, I really liked it. But when Marin was born, that, along with many other things in life, were forever changed.
I hope that I am making a decision that is a win. I hope that, as Molly said, I am going to be spending my time doing what I am best at. I hope that I don't have to resort to hiding shopping bags from Jason in my trunk. (Just kidding honey. Sortof.)
I gave a little over a months notice to my boss, but she wanted to keep it quiet for a few more weeks so she didn't have to field job inquiries just yet. It all went public today. My last day is July 9th. I have exactly eight working days left; not that I'm counting. ;)
I'm very excited to have playdoe in my hair. I can't wait to host holiday themed parties where we make take home crafts, like Valentine's for our Daddies. But I'm a little scared about the unknown. I'm a little nervous about whether or not I can hack it. I'm feeling very melancoly about this current life. But until then, I just have to dive right in feet first and do the best that I can. Lucky for me, my new boss is wonderfully kind, has a charming little toothy smile, and can't talk back yet.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
You're One: Here's What I've Learned
Marin: Now that you are one, I took a few minutes to think about all that I have learned in the last year. Here are some of those things:
- being your Mommy is a gift I don't deserve.
- you need a degree in engineering to open some toy packages
- very little actually permanently stains
- your dirty diapers/ runny nose/ drool don't bother me even a little bit
- the thermal automatic coffee maker is a mom's lifesaver
- the sound of your voice makes me smile even when I've had a long day
- I like my job, but I love being home with you.
- a little dog slobber won't kill you
- whoever invented the velcro swaddles, the baby swing and the sleep sack, is a genius!
- we will pay somehow, someway for you being such an easy baby
- you won't break
- babies sleep through (almost) anything
- unbridled joy
- waking you up in the morning is the greatest part of my day
- it doesn't hurt to let you try things
- Target is a necessary treat
- unconditional love, bigger and more powerful than I ever knew possible
- laundry is unavoidable
- the true meaning of "change"
- nap time is a mother's sanctuary
- how to change a diaper in the dark/in a bar/in the car/on a plane
- life always regulates
- the older you get the more cliche I become- but in my defense- it really does go so fast, I really did blink and you are walking, you really have changed so quickly!
- onesies are needed in mass quantities
- I want you to have a brother and a sister
- it's not hard to make your own baby food
- the meaning of "latch"extends beyond the door or cabinet
- 22 hours of labor actually goes quickly
- the epidural is absolutely necessary
- the morning sickness was so worth it
- the whole world can change with one tiny smile
- I love your Daddy more than ever
- you are a miracle
- being your Mommy is a gift I don't deserve.
- you need a degree in engineering to open some toy packages
- very little actually permanently stains
- your dirty diapers/ runny nose/ drool don't bother me even a little bit
- the thermal automatic coffee maker is a mom's lifesaver
- the sound of your voice makes me smile even when I've had a long day
- I like my job, but I love being home with you.
- a little dog slobber won't kill you
- whoever invented the velcro swaddles, the baby swing and the sleep sack, is a genius!
- we will pay somehow, someway for you being such an easy baby
- you won't break
- babies sleep through (almost) anything
- unbridled joy
- waking you up in the morning is the greatest part of my day
- it doesn't hurt to let you try things
- Target is a necessary treat
- unconditional love, bigger and more powerful than I ever knew possible
- laundry is unavoidable
- the true meaning of "change"
- nap time is a mother's sanctuary
- how to change a diaper in the dark/in a bar/in the car/on a plane
- life always regulates
- the older you get the more cliche I become- but in my defense- it really does go so fast, I really did blink and you are walking, you really have changed so quickly!
- onesies are needed in mass quantities
- I want you to have a brother and a sister
- it's not hard to make your own baby food
- the meaning of "latch"extends beyond the door or cabinet
- 22 hours of labor actually goes quickly
- the epidural is absolutely necessary
- the morning sickness was so worth it
- the whole world can change with one tiny smile
- I love your Daddy more than ever
- you are a miracle
Friday, February 5, 2010
Nostalgic Nelly
Seriously, there is no one sappier than I.
I was just looking back to my blog posts from a year ago today about being all set and ready to meet "the baby". A year ago today we didn't know if it would be a boy or a girl. We didn't know when he/she would finally be here. Reading the post, I nearly cried. The truth is, I loved being pregnant. Even though I was sick as a dog, and uncomfortable and never slept and gagged at the scent of anything other than bland crackers, I still loved the experience. I changed my shampoo, my deodorant, I took all the candles out of our house. I ate crazy things that I had never liked before, I walked a different route to work so that I didn't have to smell the cigarette smoke outside my building.... and still, I loved watching my stomach get bigger; I loved feeling Marin move and kick.
I have talked a lot about change in the last year. Life has definitely changed since we had Marin. Everything about life has changed. The way I think has changed. Sure, I'm still the same person, but my world is totally new. Today it hit me: It's not new anymore. It has been a year. This is my life. And I have to tell you, to me, it's perfect.
So am I crazy because I miss the anticipation that I remember vividly feeling as I typed my post a year ago? Am I crazy because on the way to Ms. Kathy's this morning I told an infant who can't understand, all about the day she was born? Am I crazy because even given how painful it was (before my friend the epidural) I wish that I was having Marin all over again on Monday?
Maybe. Or maybe that is just a glimpse at how much I love my little Marin Jane; a fraction of how special she is to us. I am sure that every year on her birthday I will be the same way. February 8, 2009 was the greatest day in Jason and my lives. It was the day we became a family. The day we became three. What a journey is has been! Wednesday, November 4, 2009
"I've Never - Mommies Edition"
If you were born between the years 1965 and 1990, you've played (or at least heard of) the game "I've Never". Those of you who say you haven't, are either lying or are boring.
For what I'm guessing is decades, college students across this great country of ours have sat in tiny crowded dorm rooms with a case of the cheapest beer they could convince someones older brother or sister to buy, to play "I've Never"; the game where you drink too much and share too much- both on purpose. One person says something that they supposedly never did, and if you have done that thing, you drink. It's a very mature and sophisticated game. Your parents tuition dollars hard at work.
When I became a mother, and my inhibitions were thrown out with the days of uninterrupted sleep, I began to laugh to myself at some of the things I was doing and the places in which I was doing them. One trip to play group made me quickly realize that I wasn't alone. So I got to thinking, what if mothers got together and played "I've Never - Mommies Edition"? Imagine what they'd have to share! My guess is that it would be enough to make the college kids nicely buzzed on Natural Light, stare bug eyed and wince.
So in the spirit of fun and full disclosure, here is the part of the fictional "I've Never - Mommies Edition" that would have me motioning to the bartender for a refill:
- I've Never breastfed my baby in the backseat of my car.
- I've Never breastfed my baby in a dressing room.
- I've Never breastfed my baby in front of my dad.
- I've Never breastfed my baby in front of a stranger.
- I've Never licked a pacifier after it fell to the floor, convinced that my saliva alone made it clean enough to give back to the baby.
- I've Never sat in on a conference call while using my breastpump.
- I've Never led a conference call while using my breastpump.
- I've Never knowingly put on clothes with spit up on them.
- I've Never blotted purred peas off my shirt to avoid an outfit change.
- I've Never used the restroom with my baby on my lap.
- I've Never changed a diaper in a bar.
- I've Never changed my shirt at a stoplight.
- I've Never left the crib bumper on even thought the book said I should remove it.
- I've Never sang the same nursery rhyme for an hour straight because it made my baby smile.
- I've Never put the aspirator up my own nose to be sure it worked.
- I've Never been seduced at the thought of mom jeans.
- I've Never sat in the bathtub just a few minutes longer when the baby began to fuss through the monitor.
- I've Never worried about something ridiculous, then talked myself out of it, only to worry about something bigger.
- I've Never thought my kid was cuter than your kid.
-I've Never stood over my baby's crib watching her chest rise and fall to be sure she was still breathing.
- I've Never dreamt of a playroom.
- I've Never fantasized about my husband changing diapers and folding onesies simultaneously.
- I've Never convinced myself that Karen Neuburger nightgowns were as sexy as they are comfortable.
- I've Never sniffed an article of the clothing, passed it to my husband and asked, "Is this dirty?"
- I've Never pumped and dumped- the next morning.
- I've Never gone to the park in my pajamas.
- I've Never reheated my coffee five times in one morning.
- I've Never begged to go to Bunko.
- I've Never not brushed my teeth until noon.
I've done some crazy things as a mother. Definitely things "I never" dreamt I'd do, when I was young and naive in college and likened motherhood to babysitting . But in a circle of my own kind- perhaps during a girls night out- with the kids safely asleep in their suffocation hazard free cribs, and our husbands in charge of their midnight diaper changes- after a few rounds of "I've Never - Mommies Edition", we'd all be drowning in our cosmos. Only instead of hiding our shame after admitting to all of your dorm floor that you have fantasized about your RA; in the "Mother's Edition" we'd hold our head's high with pride at the lengths we went to love our babies. Even if it came at the price of close to indecent exposure in a public place.
For what I'm guessing is decades, college students across this great country of ours have sat in tiny crowded dorm rooms with a case of the cheapest beer they could convince someones older brother or sister to buy, to play "I've Never"; the game where you drink too much and share too much- both on purpose. One person says something that they supposedly never did, and if you have done that thing, you drink. It's a very mature and sophisticated game. Your parents tuition dollars hard at work.
When I became a mother, and my inhibitions were thrown out with the days of uninterrupted sleep, I began to laugh to myself at some of the things I was doing and the places in which I was doing them. One trip to play group made me quickly realize that I wasn't alone. So I got to thinking, what if mothers got together and played "I've Never - Mommies Edition"? Imagine what they'd have to share! My guess is that it would be enough to make the college kids nicely buzzed on Natural Light, stare bug eyed and wince.
So in the spirit of fun and full disclosure, here is the part of the fictional "I've Never - Mommies Edition" that would have me motioning to the bartender for a refill:
- I've Never breastfed my baby in the backseat of my car.
- I've Never breastfed my baby in a dressing room.
- I've Never breastfed my baby in front of my dad.
- I've Never breastfed my baby in front of a stranger.
- I've Never licked a pacifier after it fell to the floor, convinced that my saliva alone made it clean enough to give back to the baby.
- I've Never sat in on a conference call while using my breastpump.
- I've Never led a conference call while using my breastpump.
- I've Never knowingly put on clothes with spit up on them.
- I've Never blotted purred peas off my shirt to avoid an outfit change.
- I've Never used the restroom with my baby on my lap.
- I've Never changed a diaper in a bar.
- I've Never changed my shirt at a stoplight.
- I've Never left the crib bumper on even thought the book said I should remove it.
- I've Never sang the same nursery rhyme for an hour straight because it made my baby smile.
- I've Never put the aspirator up my own nose to be sure it worked.
- I've Never been seduced at the thought of mom jeans.
- I've Never sat in the bathtub just a few minutes longer when the baby began to fuss through the monitor.
- I've Never worried about something ridiculous, then talked myself out of it, only to worry about something bigger.
- I've Never thought my kid was cuter than your kid.
-I've Never stood over my baby's crib watching her chest rise and fall to be sure she was still breathing.
- I've Never dreamt of a playroom.
- I've Never fantasized about my husband changing diapers and folding onesies simultaneously.
- I've Never convinced myself that Karen Neuburger nightgowns were as sexy as they are comfortable.
- I've Never sniffed an article of the clothing, passed it to my husband and asked, "Is this dirty?"
- I've Never pumped and dumped- the next morning.
- I've Never gone to the park in my pajamas.
- I've Never reheated my coffee five times in one morning.
- I've Never begged to go to Bunko.
- I've Never not brushed my teeth until noon.
I've done some crazy things as a mother. Definitely things "I never" dreamt I'd do, when I was young and naive in college and likened motherhood to babysitting . But in a circle of my own kind- perhaps during a girls night out- with the kids safely asleep in their suffocation hazard free cribs, and our husbands in charge of their midnight diaper changes- after a few rounds of "I've Never - Mommies Edition", we'd all be drowning in our cosmos. Only instead of hiding our shame after admitting to all of your dorm floor that you have fantasized about your RA; in the "Mother's Edition" we'd hold our head's high with pride at the lengths we went to love our babies. Even if it came at the price of close to indecent exposure in a public place.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
One Month Old
Marin was one month old on Sunday. I think this last month goes down in history as the fastest passing month ever. The number of things that have changed in the last month are incredible. Now when I sing in the shower it is usually "Mary had a Little Lamb" (or "Marin has a Big Doggie" to mix it up) to keep Marin from crying while I quickly clean a 5am feeding and the subsequent diaper change off of me. I'm lucky if I get a comb through my hair. The days that the blow dryer comes out from the depths of my drawer are nearly miraculous. Forget makeup all together. Ha. Makeup. That's a good one.
Words like "passie" (short for pacifier) and poop (even though I hate this word) are a totally normal part of Jason and my conversations now. Nothing spices up the romance in a marriage like a conversation about your baby's bowel movements. Once upon a time 4 hours of sleep would have had us walking around yawning and acting like zombies all day. Now if we get 4 hours of uninterrupted sleep we not only consider it a "great night" but Jason runs client meetings without a cup of coffee and I get the laundry done and straighten the house. Today I even made banana bread!
These changes of course are all for the best reasons. And while my eyes haven't closed for the day this early since I was a child myself, there are many, many amazing changes as well. Tiny coos, baby smiles, little fingers gripping one of ours and the echos of "Daddy's home" every night are among them-- the "Daddy's home" proclamation by myself, of course- happy for the help an extra set of hands can lend. I had heard it a million times before I became a mom, and it is perhaps one of the biggest parenting cliches, but it couldn't be more true; becoming a parent changes everything. In the best ways possible.
Marin is changing herself quite a bit too. She is much more alert during the day now, and she makes little noises like she is trying to talk to us. She likes to look at bright lights and out the window, and she likes her little toys that dangle from her activity mat. We read a lot of books during the day, and even though she doesn't know what I am saying, she likes to look at the pictures. And of course, she is still besties with her dog, Norah. And while Norah is a little perplexed about why this thing that cries at 2am hasn't left yet, she is very gentle with her and still very protective of her.
Change is good.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
