Oops. I’ve been meaning to post here, but I get to the end of the day and sometimes I opt to read… okay, I lied. I read one book. Mostly I watch youtube videos or crappy television.
I have approximately 824 things I’ve been meaning to blog about. We’re doing some household things that are obnoxious but also a bit fun. I love home projects. LOVE them. Except for that little part that involves small children and the fact that a “quick weekend project” always seems to remain partially unfinished for a month or six. Or for over two years, if you count the stenciling project in our dining room that I started in May of 2011. We are painting over that in the next few weeks, if you’re wondering how THAT is going.
It is summer. Finally finally summer. It took forever. We had a few nice days, but I think yesterday was the first day that BOTH kids were in shorts when we left the house. Yesterday we had a wonderful day that started with a lazy, rainy morning of fort building, popcorn eating, Roseanne watching, coffee drinking bliss. Then the weather took a dramatic turn and it became hot and sunny. An impromptu BBQ at my sister’s house ensued. Kids played. Adults chatted. Everyone became drenched at one point or another. Summer.
We are quickly approaching our kids’ birthdays (both in July). I can’t believe I only get a few more weeks of having a 2 year old, and a little over a month left of infancy for sweet Greta. It is going by too fast. I’m trying to breathe it all in, enjoy. But wow do the days just go and go and go.
I am constantly pulled between the emotions of motherhood. It can be very challenging. Sometimes I get to the end of the day and am just completely touched out. Sometimes it’s hard not to yell at my son, who loves to push those boundaries. But I’m learning. I’ve become more laid back. I try, and then remind myself at night that we get a new day tomorrow. I appreciate the successes, and do my best to sweep the failures under the rug. I remember that the good stuff weighs more than the bad stuff.
I am working on living in the moment, enjoying the stage we are in, and going with the flow. And, sometimes, I am hit hard in the gut with the realization that we don’t get a second chance. Yesterday is over. I never ever ever again get to spend a single hour with my son as a baby. I will never feel his newborn body asleep on my chest. My daughter is racing through infancy. What if she weans soon? How much longer before she walks? I know many wonderful things are ahead, but these things are the sort of things that crush my sentimental heart while I can’t fall asleep at 1am.
One of the hardest things is wondering whether or not we will expand on our family. Long story short: most likely. I am a planner, and I like to know for sure. As I pack away outgrown baby clothes and donate others, I want to know if I’m saving them for a reason. As my daughter meets another milestone, I wonder, Is this the last of these baby phases I get to experience? Is this the last onesie? Is this the last time we worry about starting solids? The thought of never having another pregnancy (as much as most of my pregnancies have been miserable) makes me sad. The excitement and terror of a positive pregnancy test, seeing the little gummy bear on the ultrasound screen, feeling those early flutters and later watching your whole belly swirl and churn as 35 week old baby does somersaults. I also see the benefits of stopping now, enjoying our family as it is, and focusing on childhood instead of babyhood… but I just don’t feel done.
Oddly enough, my husband has been bringing it up a lot lately. If you knew him, this would surprise you. He originally said he’d be happy with one child, and wanted “one, maybe two” kids. Then we decided to have a second, and he swore that two would be it. Then, in the hospital with Greta, he made a comment about something “for the next one” that made us all go, “Whaaaa?”
He is smitten by our baby. He has really grown as a father. He doesn’t consider himself a “baby person.” He likes playing basketball with our son, rough housing, showing him how to hold a golf club. But this little girl has him wrapped around her fingers (which are freakishly long, by the way), and they look so damn RIGHT when they are snuggling together and she falls asleep in his arms. I’m not sure he feels done, either. But we don’t need to decide anything just yet.
In other news… I dyed my hair purple.
I can’t really explain why I did it. I wanted a fun change. I needed to dye away the splashes of grey anyway. It’s summer. I don’t have a “real” job to report to. Why not? I love it. It isn’t, like, WHOA GRAPE CRAYON purple. We didn’t lighten my hair before dyeing it, so it didn’t turn out to be a bright purple, it’s more subdued from my brown hair. But I love it. Grant thinks it’s awesome, of course. My mom used a semi-permanent dye so we could test it out (if you’re wondering, it’s Vero K-Pak Color Intensity in “indigo”).
So, there we are. Twenty-four days into June. Where does the time go.