Sometime during the haze of the last few weeks, I had a little meltdown. I was miserable, both kids were miserable, the house was a mess, I needed a shower, everything was terrible. Sandy reminded me, “this is exactly where you want to be and what you want to be doing. Remember to enjoy it.”
Now of course, there are parts of every day that are not at all where I want to be or what I want to be doing. The dishes are a private hell, I suddenly have to do laundry every single day, and our room has become a dusty storage closet for used baby clothes. I would perhaps not have chosen for all of us to be stricken with colds and/or RSV during Zella’s first weeks, and it would be awesome if Ezra would stop refusing to eat breakfast. It would have been great if Sandy could have taken more paternity leave in these early days, rather than needing to delay it. I would love to do something creative, but I can’t see my sewing machine under the piles of junk. And in the previous paragraph, when I said “a meltdown,” you should read that as “one or more meltdowns almost every day.”
But, for the most part, he was right. I am where I want to be, doing what I want to be doing. I just need to be reminded to enjoy it, because it’s so easy for me to miss the forest for the trees. And by trees I mean piles of old baby clothes.
The forest is Ezra putting his arm around Zella on the couch, or pretending to nurse a teddy bear by putting it up to his belly button. It is Zella waking up by opening one eye suspiciously and then the other, and smiling wide smiles that are this close to being real social smiles.
It is Ezra so in love with his new playroom tepee that he physically grabs us and pushes us down the hall so we can all go inside and cuddle. It is Zella sleeping in the crook of my arm and Ezra’s urgent command of “again” (“den!”) at the end of every tickle, song, or nursery rhyme.
It is noticing that Zella’s new habit of spitting her entire dinner back onto me is really just an excuse to take more baths.