typical morning

Time is a funny thing. It's a theme in my life, if not the governing force. I think about it often. It makes me sad (it's going by too quickly), and it makes me immeasurably happy (another day to spend with my loves). I'm obsessed with it, in a way. I write about it all the time- I often think I have too much of a hold on the olden, golden days. I often think about the fact that I loved my childhood so much that it makes me want to cry knowing it's gone. But then I look at my little darling boy and know that I get to do it again, and make it even better for him.

I think back to when Henry was a baby, the tiniest thing, all nestled in my arms. I remember waking up, and up again, throughout the night. Groundhog Day, repeat, repeat. There were times where I was so tired that I wasn't sure if I would even make it to the morning (dramatic as always), and there were times where I wanted someone, anyone to help me because I felt lost trying to figure out this new job with no handbook or trainer or anyone to say "here, let me show you." But because of my obsession with time and thinking about that little hourglass' sand drop-drop-dropping away in the back of my mind I know those hard nights were to be savored.  Even the worst times, when we didn't know why he was crying, if he would ever stop, the nights where we would take turns pacing with our little man in our arms, crying, inconsolable...those were also the best times. While we were right smack dab in the middle of it I can distinctly remember thinking that this would never, ever happen again. It was depressing and beautiful and real, and knowing that there was such an expiration date on all of it made my heart ache from both loss' anticipation but also because there was so much more goodness to come.

Parenthood is funny like that. It's all too easy to spend your time feeling frustrated with the state you're in, only to miss it when it's gone. What I know for sure is that I don't want to wake up and have my little love all grown up, wondering where it all went. So I will keep being obsessed with the time I have, I will continue to keep my finger on the pulse of this hourglass, I will keep feeling like every single stage is the best part of it all. I will be in the very moment I'm in. Wailing Henry, crying Henry, smiling Henry, little baby, little crawler, little toddler. And when those hard times come, as all hard times inevitable do, I will always remember to whisper to myself, "this is it, this is life." And enjoy, enjoy, enjoy.