life is so strange. you spend your entire life trying to feel better. trying to get something larger or even smaller, something different, and the thing is that you beat yourself up over it. and you are so busy wanting something else and feeling guilty about the wanting that you do miss the moment. and that’s the crime in it. it’s not wanting something else or more, it’s being so consumed with it and with feeling bad about it that you miss the present. there is always some new job or house or person or look that we are striving for. but i’ve come to realize that that is okay. you settle in to wherever you are and you start to look around. that’s life. that’s being a human being. i no longer wish to be content, because for the most part, i am. but i am glad that i still want things, more and different things.
having a child makes you realize how precious moments are. you count the days after they are born. the hours between sleeping and eating. the times of day that they are most awake or most asleep. at first you are ruled by it, their every waking or sleeping moment. but you work yourself into it. you figure out little moments where you get to read or workout or watch a movie. somewhere along the way you figure each other out. the baby becomes a part of your lives, not just this little eating sleeping crying thing that you are tip toeing around. and before you know it they are 3 months, 4 months, a year, on and on. and you find yourself missing the tinyness, the newness. you even miss your enormous pregnant belly and swollen ankles. you finally look at your life and recognize all those little moments you missed. while you were worrying about the future.
since my son was born i think less about the future. that may sound odd. i still have goals, ideas, dreams. but living hour to hour with him has made me slow down a lot. and i needed that, i needed to experience the moment more. and honestly, there’s nowhere i’d rather be than with him, every day. it’s not to say i don’t get bored, or restless, or frazzled, or that i don’t wish for some “me” time. but every day is new in some way. every morning i walk into his room and see him smile up at me and it feels like a brand new day. and there are tiny moments throughout every day that are wonderful.
waking josh up in the morning, the way he smells and the way he always makes me laugh, half asleep and whispering about his dreams. that cup of coffee in the morning, when everyone else is still in bed. nursing hank in the morning when he is waking up, warm and snuggly and happy to see me. hank waiting patiently for me while i dance every morning. the way the sun comes into the house every day and lights up all of our little belongings. hank sprawled out on our bed watching me get ready. his little voices and laughs that are only for me. the way he will only sleep during the day in my arms. the way he cranes his neck and listens when i play music for him. folding his laundry. getting him dressed every day. the moment when josh walks in the door at the end of the day and i whisper, “papa’s home” to hank, and know i am as excited as he is. the way hank holds on to josh and always falls asleep on him. cutting and chopping and cooking up dinner every night, hoping it is something josh will like. watching jeopardy with josh every night. the way he winks at me whenever he gets an answer right. laying next to josh while he reads. his enormous stack of books next to the bed. the way that he is always warm, no matter how cold i am. these are my days. they’re good.