January is my least favorite month of the year. The gray, wet and dreary weather after so many festive weeks always weighs me down.
This year is no different, but while January gloominess weighs me down figuratively, a growing baby girl is weighing me down quite literally. At least I'm grateful for the latter!
I've written a handful of posts in my head, but time always seems to get away from me. There's a lot to be done around here - cleaning, purging, organizing, folding and general pre-baby preparation.
Not to mention
actual work and the day-to-day running of a household and a two-year-old. (Hold back your laughter; the "running" of a two-year-old is a hilarious concept, I'm aware.)
While I've gotten little of the above accomplished, I
have spent a lot of time in thought and prayer and, if I'm honest, panic about what's to come.
I've determined what needs to be prepared (meals, nursery details, baby gear, grocery lists, tax documents, directions to Mac's school, doctor's appointments) before our due date. I've made lists so long I had to stop writing for fear I'd send myself into an anxiety-induced tailspin. And then there's the very real idea of coming home with a baby in our arms.
In sweet moments with Mac, I wonder if I'll be able to enjoy him and focus on him the same way with another child in our house. What if he wants me to snuggle with him and I can't? What if he's hurt and I can't just scoop him up? How will I manage the needs of two children I love so much?
In tougher times, I question my ability to handle
two little people when I'm unable to wrangle just the one. Not my most optimistic moments, to be sure, but questions that seem to be on constant replay lately.
Although there's
always something to be done around here and plenty of "to do" items left on my list each evening, I've become quite aware of how calm and relatively quiet our life is right now. B and I know how our days and evenings will go, how many hours between bedtime and waketime, how to squeeze in errands and how to make a cranky/hurt/sad/exhausted Mac smile.
Hand me newborn Mac next month and I could probably figure it all out a lot more quickly. But the idea of getting to know a new, utterly unique creature is boggling my already sleep-deprived mind. And the assurance that we'll love her just as much as we love our handsome ham of a son? Wow. It's difficult to imagine.
And yet here we are, a month or less left, wondering when she'll be here, what she'll look like, how much we'll all melt at the very sight of her sweet face.
I'm trying not to feel guilty for skimping on housework, dinners and organizing as I stare off into space hashing this out - all the while knowing I'll never
really figure it out. It can only be like the first go round: you get tossed into the deep end and you just
swim. It's hard, but you love it.
Surely I'll be saying the same thing in a few short weeks, right?
And certainly I can't be the only mom who's ever wondered these things. As I slow down physically, my mind has begun to race with a thousand possibilities, questions and scenarios that I'll never truly be able to get a handle on as a mother of one.
I don't regret the two-hour nap I took with our only child in his big boy bed yesterday, the Chick-fil-a lemonade dates we've had lately or the evenings we three have ventured out to make memories while we can. Not to say our lives will be
over once Mac's sister arrives, but life as we know it sure will. And we can't wait.
In the meantime, I'm slowing down significantly in every way. I'm saying prayers of gratitude no matter how many times I waddle to the bathroom or how comical my attempts to take off my own boots may be. (B picked a bad year to give me a new pair for Christmas.... Where's Candid Camera when you need them?)
Pictures and stories about our hysterical, growing Mac-man to come, if only to preserve this sweet time for the crazy season ahead.
Sending all of you lots of bright, non-dreary January love! xoxo
I'm still not sure why she's walking the red carpet, but Kelly O gets a big ol' no from me. I'm as alabaster as they come, but I avoid dyeing my hair solid gray and pairing it with a white dress for formal occasions.
The color and embroidery are fab on you, Viola, but no. Your girls are behaving here, but in a moment of celebration later (in a picture I'll spare the world), they've developed minds of their own. Makes me anxious for your modesty!
You're hilarious, K. Wiig, but no. I'm not feeling the 1995 choker with that dress. Unless you're pairing it with CKOne and wearing it to the tune of Alanis Morisette's Jagged Little Pill. Ah, the nineties.
Yes, ma'am. Love the blue, adore the waistline, envy the redhead who's pulling it off. Except she probably hasn't eaten in three weeks, so never mind...
Yes!! Gorgeous color and such a feminine neckline. Perfect hair to show it off.
A big no to what DON rightfully refers to as the slit up to her lower abs. No need to hide your light under a bushel, Lea, but an inch of fabric goes a long way...
Yes and no. Adore the impish smile, the pixie hair (so few can pull this off!) and the classic red dress. Not a fan of the red-on-red shoe combo, though. So many other ways to go!
Yes and no. Love the Cary Grant lookalike version of George and the lace all over Stacy's dress. Don't love, however, that she's only known as George's girl du jour. This one's gonna sting when y'all break up by summer and you never get to walk the red carpet again. Get to bookin' yourself some movies, girlfriend!
No. Get your hands on some Chick-fil-A stat; this will put an end both to your razor-like collarbones and your miserable countenace. It's a win-win, Ange!
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