Ok, so the last post really just caught everyone up on the facts. And facts are important, right? I suppose so. But the real truth I need to express - and that all those facts were supposed to express - is that right now, for this sliver of time, this very moment, things are GREAT.
I read another blog post about an email the blog author had received, and the email asked, among other things, "...DO YOU HAVE ANY ADVICE FOR PEOPLE LIKE ME WITH BABIES OR PERHAPS REFLECTIONS OF HOW YOU GOT BY WHEN YOUR KIDS WERE BABIES? HOW DID YOU NOT JUMP OFF A CLIFF? ..." I remember those days. I remember wondering how any moms were standing upright, because I certainly felt any uprightness of mine was a trick of light.
The blog author's response was, "STICK TOGETHER. KEEP BREATHING. ESCAPE OFTEN. TAKE PICTURES and then LOOK AT THE PICTURES AFTER THE BABY IS ASLEEP. IT’S EASIER TO LOVE PICTURES OF BABIES THAN ACTUAL, AWAKE BABIES." Excellent.
It all reminded me of the first few months, or perhaps years I suppose.
A friend of mine has a 5 year old and a 9 month old and always feels like she should be accomplishing more than she is. When she's at my house and our daughters are playing together, she's always offering her help while I'm fixing snacks for them, as if she isn't already trying to keep the baby from killing himself by swallowing legos. I mean - really. She has enough to do. Recently she said, "How long will I be tied down like this?" I had enough presence of mind to remind her it's until the kid turns 3. "Oh right," she said. "That's about when I started to feel out of the weeds with the first." So funny how we forget. This forgetting is necessary for survival, I'm certain.
But Frances will be 6 next week, and Clark is 4.5. I am officially out of the weeds. I still have to tie shoes and sometimes chase and tackle a naked one who's refusing to put on jammies, but really - I'm not in danger of cliff diving any longer.
Of course, now that I'm out of the weeds, being back in them seems awfully attractive. Thankfully I have reasons not to do it again. The main ones are my age (too old for sleep deprivation), my migraines, and the medications I'm on to control them. Good reasons. But the real reason, when I'm being honest with myself and my brain is functioning well enough for me to remember accurately, is that having a new baby is hell. Hell. Those of you who are saying, "Oh no, it wasn't that bad," are suffering from a case of Refusing To Remember. (It's also Amazing and Wonderful, and thankfully we don't forget that part.)
So here is where I am. Here, where my kids dress themselves (mostly) and feed themselves, though they do not yet fix the food and put it on plates. They can (sort of) clean up messes, and can (generally) quiet down when asked. I can leave the house (with them of course). I can shower without interruption. I can eat an entire meal sitting down.
Great. That is how I'm feeling. I'm slightly worried that this feeling greatness is due to the help I'm receiving at home with the au pair here, and that when she leaves in 2 weeks I will be feeling a lot less than great. I tend to anticipate the worst that way. I'm trying my best to simply enjoy the weather and the wonderfulness of this place I am in for but a moment. Because it always changes so fast, doesn't it? Whatever the stage is, it will pass. Fabulousness and all.
I read another blog post about an email the blog author had received, and the email asked, among other things, "...DO YOU HAVE ANY ADVICE FOR PEOPLE LIKE ME WITH BABIES OR PERHAPS REFLECTIONS OF HOW YOU GOT BY WHEN YOUR KIDS WERE BABIES? HOW DID YOU NOT JUMP OFF A CLIFF? ..." I remember those days. I remember wondering how any moms were standing upright, because I certainly felt any uprightness of mine was a trick of light.
The blog author's response was, "STICK TOGETHER. KEEP BREATHING. ESCAPE OFTEN. TAKE PICTURES and then LOOK AT THE PICTURES AFTER THE BABY IS ASLEEP. IT’S EASIER TO LOVE PICTURES OF BABIES THAN ACTUAL, AWAKE BABIES." Excellent.
It all reminded me of the first few months, or perhaps years I suppose.
A friend of mine has a 5 year old and a 9 month old and always feels like she should be accomplishing more than she is. When she's at my house and our daughters are playing together, she's always offering her help while I'm fixing snacks for them, as if she isn't already trying to keep the baby from killing himself by swallowing legos. I mean - really. She has enough to do. Recently she said, "How long will I be tied down like this?" I had enough presence of mind to remind her it's until the kid turns 3. "Oh right," she said. "That's about when I started to feel out of the weeds with the first." So funny how we forget. This forgetting is necessary for survival, I'm certain.
But Frances will be 6 next week, and Clark is 4.5. I am officially out of the weeds. I still have to tie shoes and sometimes chase and tackle a naked one who's refusing to put on jammies, but really - I'm not in danger of cliff diving any longer.
Of course, now that I'm out of the weeds, being back in them seems awfully attractive. Thankfully I have reasons not to do it again. The main ones are my age (too old for sleep deprivation), my migraines, and the medications I'm on to control them. Good reasons. But the real reason, when I'm being honest with myself and my brain is functioning well enough for me to remember accurately, is that having a new baby is hell. Hell. Those of you who are saying, "Oh no, it wasn't that bad," are suffering from a case of Refusing To Remember. (It's also Amazing and Wonderful, and thankfully we don't forget that part.)
So here is where I am. Here, where my kids dress themselves (mostly) and feed themselves, though they do not yet fix the food and put it on plates. They can (sort of) clean up messes, and can (generally) quiet down when asked. I can leave the house (with them of course). I can shower without interruption. I can eat an entire meal sitting down.
Great. That is how I'm feeling. I'm slightly worried that this feeling greatness is due to the help I'm receiving at home with the au pair here, and that when she leaves in 2 weeks I will be feeling a lot less than great. I tend to anticipate the worst that way. I'm trying my best to simply enjoy the weather and the wonderfulness of this place I am in for but a moment. Because it always changes so fast, doesn't it? Whatever the stage is, it will pass. Fabulousness and all.
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