Okay, so she was here three months ago…3.5 to be exact (sob). I have had this picture sitting in an empty post in my blog dashboard for a couple of months now, but I just couldn’t bring myself to attempt to write anything to go with it. Being this sweet girl’s mama isn’t something I can easily express in words — it’s all so overwhelmingly wonderful/hard/theBESTthingever/exhausting/crazy (in so many ways, including both crazy-wonderful and crazy as in I-am-
As I’m sitting here in an awkward position attempting to type under the cozy weight of my little girl, I’m struck by the duality of my life these days; my body is both unignorably wounded and awe-inspiring; I am both a disorganized, mind-muddled little person with a houseful of unfinished tasks and a superwoman who can grow and feed a person with my body (!!!); I find myself both pining for the days when it was easier to get those tasks done and overwhelmingly at peace in this stage, this moment; time is both slower than molasses and alarmingly fleeting; Annika’s growth is both cause for tears over the end of a stage and for celebration over new developments, fresh skills, and increased independence. And then I want to cry when I think too much about her ever getting TOO independent, because we just CAN’T have her running around without her mama anywhere…but yikes, she probably needs to someday (in the really distant future, duh).
The thing is, all of this tugging in two directions — it’s confusing sometimes, but it’s simultaneously beautiful. I love this tiny person in a way that melts my heart into one big puddly mess (that
occasionally often emerges from my body in the form of tears, I’m pretty sure). Sweet Annie, YOU are simultaneously so many things, but mostly the wonderful ones. Welcome to this crazy-wonderful/cray-cray world, little bun.