crazy

This is the official end of my two weeks of "maternity leave".  I didn't need to take the break from blogging; even if it were physically taxing, I easily would have been able to manage it.  (Mom might have disagreed with me on this.)  But at the same time, I did need it.  I needed to soak in those moments without having to think about what I liked best, or what stood out to me the most.

The comment I've heard the most from others has been something along the lines of, "She's so gorgeous . . . But no.  I don't want her."  And a part of me gets that.  Love the baby, hate the work, right?  But I love everything about having a newborn.  I wasn't the hugest fan the first time around but it has seriously grown on me over the last 4 years.  The sleepless nights; the constant diaper changes; having such limited time to accomplish things between nursing sessions; the extra laundry filled with spit up and baby poo that leaves clothes only reluctantly; the exploded or leaking diapers; the bed time dance from nursing, to burping, to rocking, to the diaper being filled, to nursing . . . I love all of it.

Of course I recognize that my kids so far make it easy.  Instant nursers, not a hint of colic, good night time sleepers, my milk production has earned me the nickname of DQ, and as an extra bonus the older siblings simply adore each new addition.  And of course I am fully aware that this last labor left me in unusually good shape.  I was ready to start getting back to normal an hour after she was born, even though I'm still not feeling ready for the first Sunday back (this might be different if we attended a significantly smaller congregation).

But I believe that if I had a baby who required so much more effort, I would still love every minute.  (Even if I was pulling my hair out at the same time.)

ending on a high note

This morning I started well, despite approximately only two hours of sleep the night before.  Amazingly, I was not only able to stay conscious (though mental processes and energy levels were rather lethargic) until nap, but I also was able to eat and keep things down . . . until, at some point during nap, this baby decided that something in my lunch s/he did not like.  The rest of the day after that, until about 10 this evening, I could barely prop myself up in bed without losing something.

Apparently, my children decided that this was not acceptable, after I had had such a non-sick start.  Arabelle succumbed to a belief that there was absolutely nothing worth being happy about, unless perhaps that involved getting anything she even mildly was interested in having.  Having to deal with a massive meltdown every 10-15 minutes or so did grate my nerves a little, but once I was able to get up and about again she started calming down.

Yonah, on the other hand, expressed his frustration through finding a black crayon and coloring on just about every single surface available to his reach, from the dresser in my bedroom, to the washing machine (inside of lid included), to inside the microwave, and everything in between.  For some reason he decided to spare the bathroom and the office; I wouldn't be surprised if the only reason they were skipped was because God set angels to guard those doorways, since before we've discovered a frustrated person had colored inside the toilet.

At first I was very upset to discover the crayon's work; but Yonah and I had a talk about what he had done, and why, and how he could better handle frustrations like this in the future, and then - of his own choice - he ran for a rag, got it wet all by himself, and started trying to help me scrub away the crayon marks.  It actually turned into a bit of a fun scavenger hunt, and each time we found a new place he'd colored, he apologized - without prompting.

It does a Mommy's heart good to see her son acting in the ways she has trained him to know as right and good.