Last Friday, by 6:30 p.m., I was so done. SO done. I needed a glass of wine in a shirt that wouldn’t be soaking with breastmilk vomit within 10 minutes of a shirt change.
Adjusting has been easy and hard. What’s easy is that everything that was hard with Ella has proved itself to be a non-issue with Tommy. He latches, he poops, he sleeps well at night. It’s been all very good. Save for the colic from 6 to 10 p.m. and managing Ella who has never been an “easy” child. She is bright, active, interested, curious, persistent and has a strong sense of justice. There are books out there that call her “spirited“. I still haven’t found the magical balance or the set of rules that will alleviate the difficult moments. I’m trying. And I’m trying not to let the (many) moments that I fail at it get me down.
I have to remind myself: Don’t Carpe Diem.
All that being said, this was a really nice weekend. I got to hang out with friends and drink wine outside… hallelujah for sunshine. And I got almost two hours to myself on Sunday morning with everyone out of the house. Just enough time for me to open up a box of old photographs and remind myself of how great my Mom is (the photo in the middle is of me and my mother, I was 6 or 7 years old). Do you ever feel that pain in nostalgia? Even when they’re happy memories? It always catches me off-guard.
A pretty bouquet of flowers, spicy shrimp pizza, a few moments of quiet, handmade cards from an adoring daughter, baby smiles and a warm sun = good Mother’s day.