Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Friday, February 18, 2011
Grateful
I have so very much to be thankful for. So even though I'm not sleeping, not fitting into the size jeans I'd hoped to by now, and not any better at planning our family meals than I'd expected to be at this point in marriage... I'm feeling the blessed exhaustion that only comes from motherhood.
My little man woke up all night last night, refusing to surrender for more than an hour or two's sleep at most, and I got up with him each time. It was not heroically motivated. It was not a supreme act of sacrifice. It was, quite simply, my job. I've had lots of jobs in my life. LOTS. Probably twice as many as the average 28 year old. I've done everything from running a small non profit organization to slinging pancakes at Denny's to dressing up in a gigantic red bird suit and terrorizing young children. Oh, and I worked at a coffee shop for about a month when I was 15, and it was neither as glamorous or as gratifying as a java fiend might hope...
All this to say, this is just another job, this motherhood gig. It's "just a job" ... and so much more than that, all at once. It's filled with moments of drudgery and angst and frustration and clock-watching, punctuated by days where the weekend looms like a far-off fairytale, sustaining hope where hope has all but left the building. And then there are the other moments. The ones that catch your breath as you look down at your child, sleeping in your arms, breathing softly through tiny, parted lips ... cheeks as soft as duck down and rosy with new life, and you cannot fathom that this is what you "do" for a living. Raising humans is frequently thankless, often exhausting, but always miraculous. The tiny people we're entrusted with literally depend upon us for their survival, let alone their successful and eventual entrance into society. And when I read stories like this one, it stops me dead in my tracks, breath catching painfully in my throat as I realize that there are parents who would give anything for the privilege of being up at night with a fussy, healthy child.
And then I pour another cup of coffee. Brewed to perfection by my handsome husband before he left my "office" for his this morning. Life. Is. Good.
My little man woke up all night last night, refusing to surrender for more than an hour or two's sleep at most, and I got up with him each time. It was not heroically motivated. It was not a supreme act of sacrifice. It was, quite simply, my job. I've had lots of jobs in my life. LOTS. Probably twice as many as the average 28 year old. I've done everything from running a small non profit organization to slinging pancakes at Denny's to dressing up in a gigantic red bird suit and terrorizing young children. Oh, and I worked at a coffee shop for about a month when I was 15, and it was neither as glamorous or as gratifying as a java fiend might hope...
All this to say, this is just another job, this motherhood gig. It's "just a job" ... and so much more than that, all at once. It's filled with moments of drudgery and angst and frustration and clock-watching, punctuated by days where the weekend looms like a far-off fairytale, sustaining hope where hope has all but left the building. And then there are the other moments. The ones that catch your breath as you look down at your child, sleeping in your arms, breathing softly through tiny, parted lips ... cheeks as soft as duck down and rosy with new life, and you cannot fathom that this is what you "do" for a living. Raising humans is frequently thankless, often exhausting, but always miraculous. The tiny people we're entrusted with literally depend upon us for their survival, let alone their successful and eventual entrance into society. And when I read stories like this one, it stops me dead in my tracks, breath catching painfully in my throat as I realize that there are parents who would give anything for the privilege of being up at night with a fussy, healthy child.
And then I pour another cup of coffee. Brewed to perfection by my handsome husband before he left my "office" for his this morning. Life. Is. Good.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
And So We Continue
So this stay at home mom gig... it's a lot of work. And, quite frankly, there are days where I find myself battling unbelievable boredom/frustration/loneliness/insert negative emotion here... but I wouldn't trade it for the world. I've been "officially" working as a full-time mama for just over 18 weeks now, and while that seems like a remarkably short period of time on paper, it has felt like an entire other lifetime after 27 years of living differently.
Today is shaping up to have all the markings of a 'hard' day. I am sick. My baby is sick. It snowed (and is still snowing) and is barely into single digits outside. I have yet to shower (and to be completely honest, I don't know that I will get around to it today.) And it has been no fewer than 8 days since I last worked out. That's more than a week, and no, I'm not pregnant again. On top of it all, I ate half a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for breakfast, and I don't 'do' carbs. Except that now I do. Because you know what? They're cheap... and it's almost impossible to pack a south-beach friendly lunch for a husband who thrives on culinary variety. Oh, sorry honey, it's a breadless tuna sandwich on romaine lettuce with tomato slices and a hunk of cheese ... again. Yeah, that didn't last too long. And so we have bread in our home once again. And darn it, I eat it. Can't help myself.
So as I type, straining unconsciously to hear a wheezy, sneezy baby from the next room and hoping (praying!) he stays asleep for 10 more minutes, I want to share a few fabulous finds from around the internets... proof that other women are doing this job and doing it well... and living to laugh about it. And to look incredibly stylish and/or crafty while doing it. So enjoy. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be over at FlyLady engaging in a speed vacuuming competition while pondering the wisdom of chasing a pb n j breakfast with a grilled cheese lunch. Or maybe watching the Bachelor on Hulu while nursing. So sue me.
Today is shaping up to have all the markings of a 'hard' day. I am sick. My baby is sick. It snowed (and is still snowing) and is barely into single digits outside. I have yet to shower (and to be completely honest, I don't know that I will get around to it today.) And it has been no fewer than 8 days since I last worked out. That's more than a week, and no, I'm not pregnant again. On top of it all, I ate half a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for breakfast, and I don't 'do' carbs. Except that now I do. Because you know what? They're cheap... and it's almost impossible to pack a south-beach friendly lunch for a husband who thrives on culinary variety. Oh, sorry honey, it's a breadless tuna sandwich on romaine lettuce with tomato slices and a hunk of cheese ... again. Yeah, that didn't last too long. And so we have bread in our home once again. And darn it, I eat it. Can't help myself.
So as I type, straining unconsciously to hear a wheezy, sneezy baby from the next room and hoping (praying!) he stays asleep for 10 more minutes, I want to share a few fabulous finds from around the internets... proof that other women are doing this job and doing it well... and living to laugh about it. And to look incredibly stylish and/or crafty while doing it. So enjoy. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be over at FlyLady engaging in a speed vacuuming competition while pondering the wisdom of chasing a pb n j breakfast with a grilled cheese lunch. Or maybe watching the Bachelor on Hulu while nursing. So sue me.
- Fashion forward fabulousness
- DIY deliciousness
- Sweet thoughts on living simply
- Nursing support (disclaimer: not for the faint of heart, nor for the males of the species)
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