This morning, Everett woke up before Chris’ alarm for work, and when it came time for his first nap around 8:30, he wasn’t having any part of it. He didn’t cry when I laid him down, but for almost entire hour, made what sounded like bird calls and bounced up and down on the mattress with his stubby little legs propelling him upward, over and over. I could see him on the monitor.
He managed to get the lid off his bottle of water, soaking his sheets (luckily this time it wasn’t milk or juice). I tried covering the spot with a towel, but that obviously didn’t work, so I put the sheets in the dryer, and set out for a quick walk with him in his beloved backpack strapped to me. Just fifteen minutes outside was enough to make him tired.
So now he’s napping, after I doused lavender all over his dry sheets in the hapless hope of inducing him into some calm slumber. I think it may have worked.
I haven’t wanted to do anything lately. No yoga this week, and I canceled plans with a neighbor yesterday. I hate when I get like this, but if I allow myself to do just feel it out, it doesn’t last too long. It’s just my hormones.
Last week, I watched five movies over a four day period. One of them I watched three times. It was so good, I ordered the book it was based off of on Amazon, and just started reading it this morning.
Staying home is such a privilege. All the time is ours, and I’m so grateful to share that with my first born. I can plan my day around any way I’d like (well in-between Everett’s naps) and if I don’t want to do anything but watch movies, my chores and plans can wait or be cancelled.
I’m a lucky woman to live that kind of life, and I’m trying to be even more aware of that fact, more often.
I wrote a list in my journal a few days ago, for the little things I was thankful for so far in the day:
bacon and baked eggs
E trying a waffle with butter and syrup
my new garden
catching up on e-mails and fb
my new hoop earrings
Clifford laying with me
watching E sip grapefruit juice
his new toy from Nacny and Alan
Chris calling me while at work
Chris watering the garden before he left
hearing an acoustic version of “Dreams” by the Cranberries while driving
watching E play with Bunny
a mini nap on my back in bed
I tried to really feel thankful as I wrote, and it put me in an awesome mood doing so. I felt elevated in some way and full of everything I needed.
Little good things kept happening all evening, like Nana stopping by surprise and a package I had been waiting for being delivered. And I know it was all because I took a few minutes to appreciate what I have…coincidences kept spiraling onward effortlessly.
I just get lost sometimes and caught up and forget that I need to take a moment, take a second, take a breath–and feel grateful down to my toes that my life is what it is. That I have the home, husband, child and even dog of my dreams.
Oh my life is changing everyday
In every possible way
And oh my dreams
It’s never quite as it seems,
Never quite as it seems
I want more, impossible to ignore
Impossible to ignore
And they’ll come true
Impossible not to do
Those are the lyrics to my favorite song on earth, Dreams. It reminds me of my childhood and Dad, playing the song on his guitar and singing with all the emotion he could possibly muster, while Allison and I sat on his lap in our pajamas, unaware of our messy weekend morning hair.
But my life is changing everyday, and most definitely in every possible way. And even though I have all the dreams I’ve ever wanted, I still want more…someday. I want our property, I want the house we vision. I want a huge garden and I want chickens and fresh eggs in the morning. I want another dog to be running around with Clifford. I want the natural smell of woods and grass and clean air to be what surrounds my family’s home and life. My children will play in the earth, digging worms and run about the paths of forest surrounding us. I’ll have a whole corner of the house’s landscape planted with your lilies, and explain to the kids how special they were to Mommy’s Mom.
That is my dream, along with writing this book to you. And all those things are indeed impossible to ignore, like a little rhythm in my head, constantly daydreaming the little details into life, like what kind of tile I’ll have in my powder room or what our chickens’ names will be or what my book cover will look like.
It feels healthy to have dreams and desires so big, and to understand that there is no reason none of that can be ours if we just believe in it. I know someone reading will think, well how much money would all that cost and gee that sounds nice, chickens and lilies? But as I’m learning to appreciate what I have now, the things that can feel so unobtainable at times–like being published or owning property–are slowly becoming more of a reality and less of a dream.
The day I journaled, after I put Everett to bed, I took the dog for a walk on a whim, just the two of us. And I ended up running into my neighbor Hilary, strolling around with her three year old and five week old little boy I had yet to meet. We walked together for so long that Chris later told me he came out looking for me, saw me, and ran away home before I caught a glimpse of him.
But when I saw her beautiful baby, I felt scared, like if I were to have a newborn right now, I wouldn’t know how to take care of it. Which is crazy because I got this far with Everett, but all of a sudden I was frantic. Why?
And coincidentally, my period is late and it never is. The app on my phone keeps reminding me that it’s due.
I joked with Chris this morning that I might be pregnant (of which I’m not) and of course, he lit up with a grin the size of China.
I am in such a good place in my life, Mom. I think that’s why the thought of any kind of change makes me uneasy. But what is life without change?
I’m excited for this summer and a walking baby, ready to explore the outdoors together. I’m so beyond in love with that little boy, and selfishly enjoying my time alone with him; there are no distractions or worries to qualm my Mothering.
He’s loving all the “real” food, like quesadillas and even pizza. He has the cutest waddle walk, and is strong and determined to get where he wants. He still likes throwing his toys (especially his books) out his sometimes slightly opened bedroom window, and loves playing a tug-of-war game with the dog over their now shared stuffed animals.
Everett is always waking up from his afternoon nap when Chris gets home from work, and Chris calls for him downstairs saying, “Snuggies! Snuggernaut!” and Everett grins, squinting his little eyes like he just can’t handle the excitement.
Chris plays with him every day, as soon as he walks in the door. He drops his book bag on the kitchen table, takes his shoes off in the middle of the room, and throws Everett and spins him and kisses him until they’re both out of breath from laughing. I constantly yell at Chris because his bag is on the table, his car keys aren’t hung up, etc–but the other day when I looked at the two of them playing, with the dog trying desperately to be included in their twosome forte, I thought, screw it. Be thankful for a man like this because not every Father comes home, unloads his work load, and plays with his kid.
I don’t even think Dad played after work, or at least I don’t remember it. He had his time on the weekends with us kids, though, and like I said, every time I hear The Cranberries, I’m reminded at how fun he once could be, before the glitter in his life left.
Everett and I have been going to lunch here and there, and it’s nice to be able to feed him something off a menu, not having to remember his food and bottles. I don’t even carry a diaper bag anymore, just my purse with a diaper in it. It’s grand.
Chris is in a really good place at his “new” job, too. He has friends there now, and comes home with stories to share and a smile on his face, like he’s a little boy telling his Mother what he did in school that day. It’s so cute and I love it.
I feel like this is the best stage we’ve ever been in since Everett was born. Everything feels known, relaxed and easy. Chris and I have every night together, from 6/6:30 (Everett’s bedtime) until we go to bed. We watch movies and eat snacks and get to be us.
I am so thankful for where we are as a family, but even more thankful for what I know is yet to come. For more babies (whenever that might be), my own lily patch, this summer with Everett and whatever else we decide to dream up together, big or small.
And just as I’m closing this entry, I could’ve sworn I heard my song on a commercial, playing quietly on the unattended T.V. downstairs. I ran down the steps to listen and guess what? It was Dreams.