Two Weeks

Abigail –

They say it takes two weeks to establish or break any habit. I don’t know what that means in terms of being a little person – I was once only two weeks old, of course, but I don’t remember it, ask your Papa – but I can tell you that in terms of being your Mama, I can draw a parallel.

In two weeks, I’ve gotten used to our lives all being about you. I won’t say I love it, but I can tell you that there is no doubt it’s changing me. Your Mama is not known for her patience, but little by little I find myself being perfectly OK with just sitting here and being your Mom. Mostly that just entails letting you lie on my chest and sleep, or gently talking to you as you’re looking up at me while you fart. I assure you, if it was possible to make that sentence seem any less ridiculous, I’d try, but just this morning you were lying in my arms, your big blue eyes wide open, and the look on your face was just heart-wrenching. And moments later, you let one rip and your face settled back down once again.

Oh my God you don’t need me to tell you it’s OK to just sit in my arms and drop ass but I promise you that’s what it feels like you need right now. Just your Mama telling you it’s all alright and that it might not feel great, but we have nothing better to do with our day than sit here until you feel better, and that I know for your world right now, farting is tough stuff.

This is the ridiculousness of parenting. I get it now. And it’s true – almost immediately you’re aware of how fleeting it all is. We’re still getting to know each other, and I’m still adjusting, but the moment I complain about having to hold you again, because you’re so, so attached to me right now, oh why won’t you just give me a few minutes, I realize that, holy shit, someday you’ll be 16 and want nothing to do with me.

So I just kiss your head and nuzzle your face and thank God I can sit here to help you manage through all of that gas.

Your Daddy and I are schedule-lovers and planners. Of course that’s all out the window right now, so we’re taking the victories where we can get them. Laundry is getting done, food is being eaten (kind of, I sort of suck at eating right now) and you’re thriving. The bed gets made, the dog gets fed and the bills are paid. These are all things were are accomplishing in between, and mentally they help us manage the overwhelming task of meeting your needs. Make no mistake – we’re honored to do it, and we love you more than we can say, but Good God who would have thought how tiring, how gut-wrenching, contemplation over an extra half-ounce of formula would be? Somehow the blow is cushioned a bit since I’ve managed to pay the bills on time.

The lack of schedule that comes from all of this is hard on us, but we’re finding our way. Ask anyone who knows me: the fact that I can just sit here for three hours, resting my cheek on your fuzzy little head, or just watching you breathe, is dumb-founding. There is so much to do but no real good reason to do it or care much about it. Your Daddy will get home later and maybe we’ll get to it then. For now, we have nothing more important than this. And this is wonderful.