I'm not saying God still isn't still present and with me now, but I guess I'm having trouble on my end. I have double the distraction and half the sleep. With Noah, I was certainly quite tired (don't hear me understating this because time and distance has taken the edge off), but after about 8 months, he finally settled into a nap routine and I had two "breaks" most days even though nights were still awful. But I cherished those two breaks! They allowed me to sit and waste time, to do physical therapy, to do a workout (yay endorphins), to journal and do Bible study, to nap. I'm still figuring out how to catch a break this time around. And I'm wondering why I think I'm entitled to one? The line between self-care and selfishness is hard for me to navigate right now.
With one kid, once we got into a rhythm, we could more or less plan on it sticking for 2-3 months until the next big change, at which point we'd have a week or two of frustration, an a-ha moment, re-calibration, and a week or two of adjusting to the new normal. With two kids, my Type A brain is reeling. (And it's "only" two kids!)
It's hard not to miss the downtime of morning nap. I dread laying one down only to leave the room to get bombarded by, "MAMA WILL YOU PLAY WITH ME" for an hour and a half while all I yearn to do is drink hot coffee and eat my breakfast in introverted silence. Sometimes I have it in me to sit down and engage and enjoy sweet one on one time with my firstborn. I never regret it, but it's the hardest thing to do right now, and consequently it almost never happens. So then I feel guilty, too.
It's hard not to miss morning walks. Noah and I took really sweet morning walks the summers he was 1 and 2 (they dwindled a bit last summer once the heat wave hit and I was in my third trimester). Walking with the two of them now is still better than not walking, but it wears me out for the rest of the day if we manage to do it! The heat is unbearable right now. Or maybe it's the humidity that makes it ungodly, but between that and almost pushing my own body weight when we walk, it's not as relaxing as it used to be. It's hard for me to admit that the season of little littles dwindles as my oldest grows too big for the stroller.
It's not at all helpful for me to compare seasons, but it's hard not to. There are wonderful things about not being home with just a baby all day. But the hard things stand out more right now. It's clear to me over and over again that my expectations are left wanting, yet I'm not quite ready to let go of them.
So... they tell you every kid is different, and I guess I'm just learning that in a tangible way. And each journey with each kid is different, too. With the first, every age and stage seemed distinct and surprising and new. With the second, the first year seemed more fluid and about 5 times faster. Some things are similar: both of these kids have a feisty attitude, they had major major sleep regressions from months 4-7, they didn't fall into a nap routine until 8 months, they don't sleep through the night until after a year. But the chaos and noise and NEED is compounded. While my heart is ABSOLUTELY filled with twice the love, I'm finding that twice the patience, twice the kindness, twice the energy... that's harder to come by.
I ended up crying at a playdate at the park last week when everything kind of accumulated. I forget to give myself permission to say that things are challenging. Like, I complain about them out loud, but I don't actually give myself grace for them! Life with two is hard. And it's been compounded by work stress for Ross and for me (another post entirely), by financial stress, medical bills, the fact that we built a new friggin' building in our backyard this winter in addition to all the sickness and sleeplessness. My car has had more in repairs than it's actually worth in the past year and a half, and the check engine light came on again. I LOST MY HEARING AID the weekend of my brother's wedding. Then I LOST NOAH'S HEARING AID a few weeks ago. Family drama with loose ends that leaves us feeling inept and unsure. Feeling completely invisible and not recognizing myself in the mirror.
Anyway, this wasn't meant to be a long-winded list of grievances. This... is where I am. A little bit of chaos with a lot of emotional responsibility mixed in. I want this to be my starting place. This holy, parched, broken ground where I NEED a new thing to spring up.
