Notes from all over

I don't know how they do it.

I did it for so long, early on.  When it was just me home for the first time and a tiny girl who slept for so many hours and my hubby worked three jobs and went to school, I did it.  I took pictures and I edited them and I loaded them and I organized them and I blogged them.  I made beautiful, hardbound memory books.  I kept the house fairly clean and I cooked kinda often and I went shopping and I took naps and I probably told you it was "soooo hard."

And it was hard, because being a first time mom is hard.  It's really hard to reorient your entire brain to thinking about someone else's needs first and foremost above your own.  It was hard because I was lonely and missed my husband.  It was hard because I had a tremendous amount of post-partum anxiety and a pretty fair amount of stress over money.

This time around is not so hard in so many ways.  He's home so much more.  I don't have post-partum anxiety.  Actually, I kind of think that maybe I had finally had so much anxiety that something short-circuited in my brain and rendered me incapable of feeling any anxiety at all.  I kind of kid, I think.

But it's also kind of hard to have two kids and a few major life changes occurring all at once.  I am not organized.  I am tired.  My photos are untaken and unedited and unblogged and I don't know how so many moms make all this look so easy and graceful!

Last night I was picking up toys for the 8 billionth time and feeling whiney and tired about it when I saw this sweet gem.  It struck me what a mix my life is of mundane and magical.

It's so precious to me to find her little loved doll babies.

Mundane and magical.  Sweet and funny.  Crazy busy and a two-hour nap.  That's my life right now and it's good, so good.

She asked to nap behind the chair in Peanut's room.
*pause*
Yes.  Yes, because why no?

Both my babies asleep near each other at at bedtime at the same reasonable time.
Only happened once.

All sweetness.

Tea parties.  We have so many tea parties.
The apples were her choice.

That funny little half-smile.
It slays me.

He was smile-laughing in his sleep whenever he heard my voice.

  

Sleeping like his sister.

 

He rolls over and gets stuck and yells.  Every time.

My boys.

Momtoging.

Found his fingers on his 3-month birthday.

 

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