Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year.
We’re nearing the end of twenty-eighteen, and moving into a new year.
How did this happen so fast? When did the years start feeling like months? Days fly by now like the notes in a song; beautiful but fleeting and precious. It’s an endless struggle each day to not take one for granted.
Just as soon as I’ve vowed to see the beauty in every smile, the sensitivity of every tear, I’ve already forgotten to hold my precious little one a little longer. It’s hard to not get caught up in the daily trudge and let it disguise the glimmers of beauty that are hidden all around us.
2018 - sand through my fingers
I’m not usually one to make new year’s resolutions, as I’ve never really had a reason to.
But tonight, as I sit in reflection on how fast my daughter’s first year of life raced by, I’m shocked by how much of it I look back on in relief.
“Thank goodness teething is over for a little while,” I thought – before realizing how much comfort I was able to provide during those tough nights.
“Boy, I’m glad we did sleep training,” I think most nights as I fall asleep without fingernails clawing at my face – then I miss hearing Kenna’s sweet breath as she stirs in her sleep.
“I’m so fortunate that she weaned herself at 10.5 months and I didn’t have to fight with her about it,” I reminisce… before missing the way she would touch my face and fall asleep while nursing.
“I really miss the days when I could just plop you on the floor and do things!” I shout in desperation as the dishes from yesterday still sit in the sink.
But… somehow I’ve forgotten to see the beauty in every step she’s now taking, and the fact that she really just wants to help mommy empty the dishwasher and be just like me.
It’s so heartbreakingly bittersweet to look back upon your child’s first year. Regardless of how present you try to be in the moment, those moments are still fleeting and gone before you get to grasp them. Every day is a struggle for me to stop, look, listen, and cherish. And that’s what I’d like to focus on this year as we near Kenna’s second, beautiful year on this planet with us.
2018 - surviving, not thriving
I’m starting to understand that, as a first time mom, you tend to take things for granted. As Kenna grows older, I’m beginning to harbor regret for the naivety that I had as a new mom. It wasn’t intentional, and it won’t be my undoing, but I would give anything to turn back the clock and see things differently. I was in survival mode after the birth of my daughter, and I think I’m just now starting to thrive in my role as “mommy,” (as well as one can, anyway).
I praised her first noises and steps, but it didn’t feel earth-shattering to me until now. Now, I wish I could relive those moments over and over again, and never pull myself away.
there's so much more to look forward to
I can’t go back.
But I can look forward with purpose and intent. I can choose to be present. I can choose to be here now.
Kenna isn’t even two yet; there’s so much more of her life I get to experience with her. I get to be her hero and her confidante. I have the privilege of being her mother, and I am floored that I am as fortunate as that. What better way to show my love than to give her every piece of my heart and soul?
What better way to be a mom than to deny myself and give her the world?
2019 - show me what you've got
I’m ready to go; I’m ready to be present and live in the moment. Let’s save the dishes for tonight after she’s gone to bed, and take this ten minutes to stack blocks and laugh instead.
2019 will be different.
Until next time,