Treading softly

I just finished reading C. Jane's post about transitions in motherhood (and all the comments). Going from no children to one. From one to two.  Which is hardest, easiest, smoothest, calmest.  And so on.

And since I'm in the midst of one of those transitions, I loved reading it all. While I'm pretty sure I'm not experiencing any postpartum depression (nor did I after Raymond was born), I agree that transitions of this nature are just hard any way you slice it.

It's a new balancing act, a new rhythm, a new sense of self.

And all that newness takes some time to get used to, you know? It's been a mixed blessing for me to have this baby at the height of the holidays (two days before Thanksgiving, in fact). I've had so much extra help with Jeremy on breaks from school and all the extra family time associated with the holidays. I've also loved holding a newborn and singing or reading or thinking about the newborn Savior--it's added such a calming and inspiring aspect to my holiday season.

On the other hand, there is so much to do! Not enough hands to do it with!

It's taken determination to cross things off my To Do list that I never actually got around to doing. To say no gifts to neighbors this year. No Christmas cards. No caramel making. And then to not feel guilty about it. (That's the clincher: the no guilt. I'm oh so good at feeling guilt.)

But I believe in treading softly on these transition months. On being slow. On not rushing.

It was super important to me to get as much as possible done before she came, so that I could simply enjoy her now that she's here. I'm doing my best to live up to that. To let things go.

I think this transition has been much softer and calmer than my transition from none to one was. Partly because I know a little bit (although still not enough!) of what I'm doing. And I know how fast it will go. And I trust that eventually I'll sleep again.

So I'm treasuring up the sweetness of a newborn. Even when she cries or won't sleep anywhere but in my arms.

Because all of that is worth it to have her tiny hands cling tightly to my shirt as she sleeps snuggled up on my chest. To hear her little puffs of breath come in and out as her eyelids flutter and her mouth hangs falls open into a long O. Oh how I love to kiss and kiss and kiss those pink cheeks and drink in her smell when her head falls slack on my shoulder.

It's ok that everything but the bare essentials seems to be neglected right now. Because her cheeks are so soft, you see. 

And you know, I was an imperfect mom before she came. And I'm an imperfect mom still. But I'm better for having her. I'm confident that two will teach me what one could not. And someday the same will go for adding another. And another. And so on. And while it should (an is!) be hard, or rather, challenging, stretching, purifying, it's also sweet. And I like to focus on the tenderness more than the toughness.

And so I am doing my best to tread softly. On myself, my schedule, my To Dos, my imperfections, my little ones, my life. I will soon enough have to emerge from the newborn cocoon, I want to bask in it's sweetness as long as I possibly can.

More on determination

A few months ago Jeremy predicted that my blogging would wane as more children entered our home.

I responded with an emphatic not me!

Alas.

Sorry folks. Looks like I'm failing on that account. But I have high hopes that my sporadic visiting isn't permanent. That sometime after the newborn stage we'll be back with full force. Cross your fingers.

And in the mean time feast your eyes on the goodness of Tasha's photography skills. And sewing skills. Here's my sweet girl lounging on an Aunt Tasha original.

Christmas was just as sweet and juicy as Ginny's cheeks. Full of all the goodness of going home. New Years was pretty great too... even if we did hit the sack at 9:30. Hey, when the kiddos sleep, we sleep. (But no worries I was awake enough times in the night to make up for going to bed two and a half hours earlier than expected!)

As a side note: don't you just love the freshness of a new year? I just love writing 2011; it makes me smile every time. On Sunday Jeremy wrote down some of his "life" goals (things he wants to accomplish before he dies), and I loved thinking about not only what I hope to accomplish this year, but in the next fifty or sixty.

And (just so you know) if you don't hear from us for a while, you can assume we're happy and well! Watching the snow fall from our front window and finger painting pictures of spring.