Her eyes are still blue, she still breathes, she still sleeps through the night. She still has ups and downs. If you asked her, I bet she would tell you that she is just fine, that she enjoys her life and that she just wants the milk to continue flowing.
I, on the other hand, am feeling a little bla bla. It’s autumn, my favourite season, and I can’t seem to get into it. I wear too much clothes or too little and my head is about to explode with way too many thoughts. One day it’s Monday and then it’s suddenly Saturday and I try to remember how I spent the days inbetween, but I can’t. There’s a lack of organisation that doesn’t really agree with me. I don’t want to miss out, but on the other hand I can’t contain everything, I need time on my own.
I haven’t gotten to the point yet where I miss my job, but I sometimes miss being an employee. I miss being bossed around by an adult whose instructions I understand instead of by a four month old who sometimes cries because, well, she just cries.
I am thinking it is a phase and that I am not the only one going through it. We’re slowly settling into a routine and with that comes the desire to return to parts of my pre-baby world. I want to read a book. I want to nap when my eyes are heavy and not when she (finally) sleeps. I want to sit in a chair and just stare, let go of every single thought in my head.
My baby girl is absolutely smitten with her mother at the moment. I know I should cherish the moment because it isn’t necessarily coming back, but it’s difficult. J longs for her smiles and to be someone she recognises, someone who will make her eyes big and happy. I long to be one of many – or just one of two – who can make her happy.
I chose the life we are living right now. I longed for it. LONGED. I would not change it for the world, but I would be lying if I didn’t say that some days I wish I didn’t have to sit on the floor and entertain my baby girl, some days I wish I didn’t have to cook at night with her in a chair on the floor, never really happy, always crying a little and looking at me with those big “pick me up and entertain me” eyes.
2009 has just three months left. I look at my baby girl. By the time 2010 knocks on the door, she will be eating real food, she will be attempting to crawl, she will sit in a high chair. I shake my head and blame myself for not enjoying right here and now some more. This will only happen once. If we have more children none of it will be new, a second child will never be “alone” like the first. And this is basically where my days end at the moment: Longing for something that is difficult to put into words and blaming myself for not enjoying every hour of the day enough.