1. Mentally gather up the nerve to set foot outside the safety of your home. Hesitate over whether you’re ready. Decide that you are. Decide that you probably aren’t. Force yourself to do it anyway.
2. Excitedly announce to toddler that you’re going to “go bye-bye” together. Watch toddler’s face light up with glee as she hears the welcome news that her cabin fever will finally be cured. Note toddler’s sudden increase in energy upon hearing news of impending outing. Immediately regret decision to leave the house and, more importantly, to tell your toddler that you’re doing so. You’re all in now. There’s no turning back.
Last night, as I lay in bed eating gummi bears while watching Ramsay’s Kitchen Nightmares, exhausted beyond belief and wondering when Tiny Boss #2 would wake up next for a feed, I had to remind myself: this, too, shall pass.
There are a lot of things I forgot about having a newborn.
Those first few weeks can truly be the most exhausting, the most challenging, the most painful and the most terrifying as you think to yourself how your world has been turned on its head and will never be the same again.
Repeat after me, mama: this, too, shall pass.
Last night, I spent two hours solely dedicated to trying to settle my fussy 20-day-old, while her father got her almost two-year-old sister ready for bed. I envied his task a little; its predictability, its dependable routine, its lack of screams and cries, and lack of moments of self-doubt and desperation. Those moments of “what do you want me to do?!” as you try and figure out what this little person needs from you. Continue reading
I get it now.
A week after giving birth to my second child, I get it now.
They said I would be overwhelmed with a combination of emotions I couldn’t comprehend – I get it now.
That I will feel immense love beyond anything I could ever have imagined, but at the same time feel fear that maybe I’m not going to be able to ever handle both kids on my own.
That I can look at my toddler and marvel at how she seems to have grown up overnight, but at the same time feel like she’s my little baby who still needs so much from me and worry about whether I am going to be enough for her now that my attention is divided.
That I can look at my newborn and almost literally feel my heart explode with a love so mind-blowingly powerful that it totally consumes me, and also feel guilt in knowing that there are some things I was able to do for her older sister which I can’t do for her.
I get it now.