We painted a wall today, the first wall we have painted since moving in almost a year ago. I love that my oldest helped. It would have been easier to do it when she wasn’t around. But I love that she gets to learn and be included in projects. In creating our home.
And I love the color. I love it. This house has always felt so peaceful to me. My last house was inspiring. This house, peaceful. The color is perfect.
In other news, I finally caved and put away most of the six month clothes to make room for the nine month clothes. My youngest has been “hulking out” of her sixth monthers for a little while, but I refuse to believe time is moving so fast.
She’s also still sleeping in our room, and is rapidly approaching the weight limit on the bassinet insert in the pack and play. I know it’s time to move her to her room. I know it is. But I loathe the idea.
However, I’ve been getting nervous about the weight limit predicament and I know, rather than remove it and change up the pack and play I should just move her to her room. But like I said before… loathe.
This evening I took the insert out of the pack and play and set it up for her to sleep in it the regular way. Next to my bed.
I know, I know. But she’s got the rest of her life to sleep in her own room.
We took one lap around the block without training wheels on.
Teaching stuff like this is hard. I never know when to let go.
We are a blended family. Lexi’s dad and I parted ways right after her 2nd birthday. It was hard, it always is, especially with kids. At the time I felt like we would be better parents to her apart than together, and since “what if”s don’t really do anything, that’s what I still believe. We get along better now, and it feels good to be working together to parent her.
Sharing time with her has always been hard. As a mother, to send my kid somewhere else two evenings per week and every other weekend feels so strange. But I tell myself it is about what’s best for her. She loves going to her dad’s. She loves coming to our house. She loves that she gets to be with both of us. And he is a good dad; he deserves to have time with her.
When we found out we were pregnant, that was one of the first things I began to think about. How will I have one of my children all the time and one of them part of the time? How will Lexi handle it?
The truth is, I don’t know. We talk about how some people’s parents live together and other people’s live apart. We talk about all the people who love her and how lucky she is. When she misses one of us, we FaceTime each other. One step at a time, one moment at a time, we do the best we can with whatever situation or feelings we encounter.
And it’s hard. It’s harder now because I’m exhausted and I’m constantly feeding Harper or changing her and I don’t feel like I’m giving the same amount of attention to Lexi.
Two weeks ago we were in the hospital. It was her weekend with her dad, but she came to visit every day. Last weekend she was with us, and then this week she was with us all week because her dad was sick. So today was the first day I had to send her to his house for the weekend. Harper was fussy all day so before I knew it he was here to pick her up, and I felt like I hadn’t had enough snuggles or hugs or giggles… I felt like I had hardly spent any time with her all day and now she was leaving. And even though I’m exhausted and quite frankly could use the break, my heart still breaks every time I have to let her go.
Maybe it’s practice for a lifetime of letting her go. Deep in my heart, I’m so proud to share her with the world. But it doesn’t make sharing her any easier.
Phew! Where has time gone? Second trimester came, with its deceiving bursts of energy, just like they said it would. I made meal plans, put the nursery together, brainstormed blog posts and enjoyed the feeling of “having it all together” for the most part. The time came to make a decision about what I was going to do after baby arrives in January.
For the first time in my life, I have the choice to stay home, not just for my 8 weeks of maternity leave, but officially as a “Stay At Home Mom”. To be honest, I never even expected this to be a choice for me. And even if it ever was, I never expected it to be one I would consider. When my daughter was born, I was overwhelmed. I needed my work and adult interaction. I needed to step away and have some distance each day so I didn’t drown in the overwhelming responsibility of caring for a tiny human.
But the second child is different. I’m older now. I’ve seen how quickly time passes. How the hard stages pass, and the easy stages pass, and no matter what you do everything passes. I used to think of becoming a stay at home mom as signing my life away. Now I see how fleeting these moments and years are. How this is time that I will spend the rest of my life looking back on.
Still, it wasn’t an easy decision. To give up a career I had only just started making my way into, to let go of the sacred spot on the infant waiting list at our first choice daycare. To ultimately make the jump from one “team” to the other in the great debate between working mom and stay at home mom. It takes a lot of letting go to make a decision like this. And letting go is never easy.
But in the end, the decision did feel easy. I have the rest of my life to work, to focus on myself, and only a few short, precious years to focus on these amazing little creatures I’m lucky enough to call my children.
So the decision was made. Time to jump.