A Tentative Hello

I am truly the worst at keeping this space going. So many times I’ve thought of just shutting it down because seriously, what’s the point of having a blog up and running that’s not truly up-and-running? It’s kind of insane. I just about make the decision to deactivate it and then I realize that I’m a person who values quality over quantity and doesn’t quite care whether I have thousands (or even hundreds or less) readers. As long as something I write resonates with someone – even one person! – I’m happy and proud of that.

So here I am. Typing. I haven’t been on my laptop writing anything in what seems like so long. There’s something wrong with my trusty ol’ Macbook Pro – she’s on the fritz. The battery just won’t keep for long anymore and I never liked using the cord, so I never have much time. It’s funny how much I liken myself to this old machine lately – my battery doesn’t keep for long anymore either.

It kind of annoys me how almost everything I talk about lately likens back to parenthood (check out my Twitter account if you’re interested in some silly anecdotes), but that’s where I am right now. I didn’t want to be that person; the one who only talks about motherhood or her child, etc., etc., but the fact of the matter is everything in my day, every single moment, and every part of me revolves around my tiny little human. She’s amazing. She’s the best thing I’ve ever done. I honestly wouldn’t have believed you if you’d told me I’d feel this way this time last year, even when I was pregnant, but it’s true. I was so worried I wouldn’t fall immediately in love with her, but I did. Immediately and fiercely. Sometimes I joke around about how scary it is what I would do for her; that I would tear out throats with my teeth for her if I had to, but what’s really scary is I’m not joking at all. Boo! Happy Halloween.

My batteries don’t keep for very long these days because, even though we’re out of the newborn stage, being a parent to an infant is hard. Since I wasn’t one of those girls who ever looked after small children when I was growing up or – gasp! – even truly liked them, I couldn’t fathom how tired I’d be once I’d had a child of my own. I’ve just recently learned that the key to it all is to not sit down without something to occupy me (but not a book, or I’ll be asleep within ten minutes). My days are pretty much as standard as they used to be before T was born – I still get up at six and am in bed between nine and ten ‘o’ clock – but they’re so much more active. Now, unless T is sleeping, it’s go-go-go! all the time. She is a very active eight-month-old – crawling full tilt, standing on her own, already taking tentative first steps, and demanding for any person bigger than herself to hold her up by her hands and walk her everywhere. It’s positively exhausting. I wouldn’t have it any other way, but that’s part of why I haven’t really been around these parts – once I sit down at the end of the day, I’m down for the count.

This post is starting to turn out like a brain dump, but maybe that’s just where I’m at now. I’ve always maintained that I would remain true to this space – that I wouldn’t sugarcoat things; that I wouldn’t post for content’s sake; that I would tell it like it is. So here I am: this is me now. Tired, but happier than I’ve ever been; lacking words, but not really able to shut up. Being a mother has already changed me in so many ways and I’d love to write about them, but maybe not right now. I’m trying to ease back into this as best I can. Maybe no one will even read this. If you are – hello. I’ll be back soon.

I Am Blessed


Unless you’re very close to my family, what you may not know about T is that while she’s a pro at sleeping in her crib at night, she prefers to nap on people. She will readily fall asleep on a pillow placed across my lap, or on her father’s chest, or in either of her grandmothers’ arms. The minute you move her to her crib, however, she wakes. How we can move her into the crib at night but never during the day is one of her own great mysteries.

Sometimes being forced to stop for an hour or two a couple times a day to allow her to nap can be annoying. Sometimes I just wish she would go in her crib so I can get some stuff done around the house, or so I can just have an hour to myself. I think this is a normal, healthy thing. And truthfully, I don’t usually mind her sleeping on me, it’s just some instances that I wish she’d settle down on her own for a nap.

Today is not one of those days.

After seeing the photo of those poor drowned children on that foreign beach, my daughter can sleep on my lap whenever she wants. All day, if that’s her desire. She’s doing it right now, actually, and my right hand is numb and prickling from how her heavy, dream-filled head is lying on my arm. I have typed this entire post with the index finger of my left hand. There is a parent in the world – as there are many parents in the world – who would give everything he owns and more to be “stuck” holding his sleeping child.

I will never take the sound and feel of T’s steady breathing – in-&-out, in-&-out – for granted. I will never grow tired of looking down to see her nestled in tight against my chest. If she will only take a nap on me for the rest of her childhood, I will never hold that against her.

Yesterday, upon seeing that photo, I went upstairs to T’s room and interrupted her playtime with her father. I scooped her up into my arms, held her tight with her warm little cheek pressed to mine and with tears in my eyes I remembered: I am blessed, I am blessed, I am blessed.

I will never forget the image of that child, Alan Kurdi, lying on the beach, as if he too were only sleeping.

If only that could have been the true story of that photo.

25 Weeks

It amuses me that I haven’t written here in months; that the last post I wrote was made when I was 25 weeks pregnant and now my daughter (whom I’ll refer to as “T”) is now 25 weeks old. She’ll be six months old tomorrow, 26 weeks old on Saturday, and is absolutely the joy of my life.

The past six months have passed by in an absolute blur of all those things people tell you about before you have your first child: sleepless nights, seemingly endless dirty diapers, spit up, second-guesses…I’ve dealt with all those things. But I’ve also been blessed with smiles and giggles and the sweet smell of her breath after I nurse her. Sure there were hard times at first (a long haul with jaundice and getting the hang of breastfeeding was a nightmare), but I wouldn’t change one single second of the last six months. Not a one.

In my previous post I wrote about how I didn’t want this space to turn into just another “mommy blog”. I still don’t, but that fact of the matter is that “this is me now”, as I like to jokingly say. I’m a mom now. Every minute of my day is spent looking after a beautiful little girl, so there’s not much else to write about right now. The break I took from writing seemed like a natural one, but once again I’m feeling the siren call beckoning me back here.

Bear with me while I tread the new, murky waters of navigating what I share here? I’ll make it to the open ocean again soon.