One of my favorite movies is "A Knight's Tale." Not because of the plot, necessarily, but I love to quote movies, and this movie is a great one for quoting. One particular line is from the character named Geoffrey Chaucer, and in this line he says:
"To trudge: the slow, weary, depressing yet determined walk of a man who has nothing left in life except the impulse to simply soldier on."
Y'all. I'm trudging. I'm trudging through motherhood right now. I feel the best form of blogging is honest blogging. I. Am. Trudging.
Anyway, I should be creating my grocery list. Or possibly doing laundry for the first time in three weeks. I could finish cleaning out Ella's closet, considering we've transitioned into the next size up, and that means finding a new house for all of the clothes that we bought just a short month ago. It would be a good idea to clean up the mess I made while cooking dinner. Logic would state that I should be proactive in preparing a crockpot dinner for tomorrow's lunch. But I'm not going to do any of those things. I'm going to sit in this recliner, drink my coffee, and collect my thoughts. I'm going to pretend that my daughter's vaccinations haven't made her a complete psycho for the past 24 hours. I'm going to pretend that I have so much money that I don't need to worry about making a budget friendly grocery list. I'm going to pretend that my toenails are painted a vibrant shade of red, and there's no such thing as callouses. I'm going to close my eyes while I type, because I know that as soon as I put my head on a pillow, that darling little princess is going to open her eyes. So I wait. I have a Coldplay album playing in the background, I ponder a few of the lyrics in-between keystrokes, and I wait for those sweet little shrieks to fill my ears again.
Yet... in the midst of the chaos... in the midst of trudging... in the midst of the never-ending cries and the 24 hour buffet I've been running for the last week... I'm grateful. My heart is full. I have a healthy, happy, rapidly growing daughter in my home, and she's just about the greatest thing that's ever happened to me. I can say with completely certainty that I will not miss these sleepless nights. I will not... but I'll miss her tiny face burying into my neck when a stranger speaks to her. And I'll miss the way she looks curled up on her Daddy's chest when she takes her ten minute power naps. But I will not miss these sleepless nights. I just want to make that real clear.
My heart is thankful for a husband that understands that this is just a phase. One of these days, he's going to come home and dinner will be ready. He's going to walk into the room, and Ella is going to shriek with excitement to see him, his wife is going to come around the corner with hair done and makeup on, and she's going to throw her arms around him. He's going to sit in his recliner, watch an episode of some television show that I don't understand in peace, and then he's going to sit down with his family and enjoy dinner. Someday. Right now, he comes home to a wife with dirty hair and dark circles, a baby thrown on her hip, some form of protein defrosting in the sink, and an overall sense of exhaustion in the air. He takes the baby as soon as he walks in, and hastily kisses his wife on the cheek so that she can start dinner. He bounces the baby until the baby gets too hungry to hang out with Dad anymore, then he cleans up the living room so that he can find his recliner. We're in the heat of new parenthood y'all, and one of these days we're going to find a routine. Until that day, we soldier through and collapse into the bed at night.
My heart is thankful for the vaccinations that have wrecked our world lately. I know there are so many thoughts and opinions and warnings about vaccinations, but I really don't care to talk about them. We chose to vaccinate our daughter because we aren't willing to risk the consequences of opting out. I'm thankful that we are raising our daughter in a world of countless medical advancements, and that we're able to protect her through modern medicine. I won't lie, I wish that I had the ability to disappear through some of these fits that Ella is throwing, but I clearly can't be upset with her for responding to her body building antibodies.
My heart is thankful for the chaos. Someday, we'll look back and laugh. We'll be the parents of a teenager who knows everything, and we'll smile to ourselves. "Ha!," we'll say, "And we thought things were complicated with an infant." We'll look at each other with tired faces, and say "Remember when she couldn't talk?" and smile. We'll look at her baby pictures with whatever device technology has advanced to by then, and our hearts will hurt a little bit. Was the teething phase so bad? Were her cries really so exhausting? Were we being dramatic? Surely things were easier when she stayed where we put her.
My heart is thankful that I'm aware of how quickly this is going to pass. I picked up a pair of newborn jeggings today and I just about crumbled into pieces. I scooped up my cranky baby, sat down in her bedroom floor, and I held her. She screamed bloody murder, I prayed that the tylenol would kick in soon, and it wasn't a moment that I would call "precious," but I soaked it in. I soaked in all 24 1/2 inches of her. I kissed her cheeks and her forehead. I kissed her nose. I held her close to me and ran my fingers through her hair. I love being her mama. She wears me out, and sometimes I really do wish she came with a pause button, but we're going to make it. She is worth every minute.
My heart is thankful that even though I am certain my body will never be the same, it continues to amaze me. It managed to grow a human, recover from two abdominal surgeries, heal itself remarkably fast, and feed the human it grew in a year's time. I have aches and pains all of the time, but in the grand scheme of things, the Lord crafted us so brilliantly. I push myself to the breaking point, but my body always bounces back. I never want to take that for granted. I'm thankful for the Lord's design. Especially when it comes to feeding my baby. For free.
Basically, this blog is just a way for me to collect my thoughts. To sort through the million things I have coursing through my brain at any given moment. I'm so, so tired. I swear I've never been this tired... but I said that while I was pregnant. I said that when Ella was born. I said that after her first round of shots, and I said it last week. I think eventually I'll just adapt to being tired, and then life will get easier. And that's just about the time that it'll be time to start thinking about another baby. And then it'll start all over. It already makes me smile, and it already makes me want to punch myself. I hope that if you're exhausted, and plotting how many grown up beverages you're going to have when your child has its first sleepover at your parent's house, and wondering how in the world you're going to keep living this way... You remember that it's just a moment in the grand scheme of things. It's going to get better soon. Until then, hold the baby a little tighter. Cuddle through the screams. Ponder your sanity while you kiss baby toes. Laugh when you want to cry. You won't miss the mundane, but you'll miss the little years. I'm sure of it.
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