December 18, 2014
Tomorrow Selah June turns 3 months old. All week I’ve been thinking about that fact. In some ways, it seems like an eternity since we were at the hospital anxiously anticipating her arrival. In other ways, I can’t wrap my head around the speed at which she is growing and changing. How can both be true?
It’s 8:52pm, and both of my punkins are crashed out. One is on the couch, and the other is in the co-sleeper. I’m torn between staring at the wall and catching up on laundry.
Every morning I wake up with the most positive of attitudes, hoping to soak in every little smile and all of the present while I can. By noon, I’m calling friends and family for some kind of excuse to leave the house. By late afternoon, I’m defeated. Selah June is crying. I’m ignoring it because I’ve tried everything and don’t have the energy to do another whole round of changing diapers, playing, feeding, and rocking to sleep. By dinner, it’s Jeremy’s problem. And soon after, it’s my problem again. 😉
I now understand every mother’s story about sitting on the porch crying while the baby laid in the crib crying… and I understand every poor father’s plight in just such a situation.
We’re doing great, and yet most days end up with me feeling like I merely survived.