I cannot believe Rosie is a three month old. The difference between 8 weeks and 12 weeks is so drastic! I no longer have a newborn, but an awake, alert, wiggly little baby. I'm surprised at some of the newborn things I'd forgotten: those early days when they can't even purposefully move their arms so sometimes they just hang down at their sides while the baby stares into your eyes. Can you imagine not being able to control anything but your eyes or your cries? Their sweet trust and vulnerability gets to me every time.
Then we hit that fun stage where Rosie found her arms overnight, and any time we laid her on her back for about two weeks, she would just have her arms straight up in front of her, waving those little fists around, in awe that they've apparently been there the whole time. Then she spent a few days grabbing her shirt and kind of pulling it away from her body, as she experimented with what her arms could do. And now those chubby little fists have found their way to her mouth, and she's a drooly, slobbery little puddle who is trying her darnedest to sit up on her own. She's solidly in her 6 month clothes now, and it's so hard to remember that she's still a pretty tiny baby on the inside. Slow down, baby!
It's so fun to learn her different cries, too. The "pay attention to me" cry, the "I'm so tired, why aren't you putting me to bed" cry, the "I'm hungry" cry, the "I'm ticked" cry... and they're all just so so sweet. It breaks my heart that Noah mostly had an "I'm in pain" cry thanks to his reflux. The perils of being the oldest child-- I just didn't know what I didn't know when he was little! I hate that he had to suffer through that, and I will always mourn the "typical" newborn experience that he and I missed out on. But I love that we had so much Mama/Noah time to bond and connect as he got older. It's so interesting doing all of this newborn mothering the second time around. It gives me a chance to do things differently, but I'm also learning that babies themselves are so different right off the bat, and much of it (LIKE SLEEP) isn't a reflection of me as a parent.
Today I did my first postpartum Barre3 workout. I got cleared for exercise and physical therapy at 6 weeks, although I was taking 2-3 mile walks with the double stroller a few times a week starting around 4-5 weeks, because toddlers who don't want to nap in their beds are more apt to nap in the stroller! (It was kind of a bummer to come home with two well-rested kids while I, meanwhile, was exhausted and sore and all kinds of sweaty. But rested kids are WORTH IT.)
Sadly, those walks have fallen by the wayside in the past few weeks, as sleep patterns and weather patterns change. I'm reminding myself over and over again that change is the only constant in these early days. And I'd say I've been riding with it pretty well and giving myself a lot of grace up until the last week or two. I'm starting to crave routine, schedules, some semblance of normalcy. Even though Rosie isn't colicky (praise the Lord), she's still a baby! Sometimes she doesn't like to fall back asleep after eating at 3am. Sometimes she doesn't want to close her tired little eyes during Noah's rare afternoon naps. She still has witching hour when she's overtired in the evening. We still can't manage to all sit down to dinner together.
Everything changes at such a rapid pace right now, that a routine that worked well one week doesn't even begin to work the next week. I'm still figuring things out day by day. Don't even get me started on the toddler wanting to get out of the house, and the baby no longer falling asleep willy nilly while we are out and about. As with Noah, that 4-6 week developmental leap caught me by surprise with Rosie. My cuddly little newborn suddenly had opinions and didn't want to sleep all day every day. I found that right when the meal train ended and people stopped treating me like a freshly postpartum mom, is when I almost needed more support. The world thinks you're over it, but you're still recovering AND now your baby doesn't want to sleep all day AND your toddler is thoroughly sick of being home-bound. It's a rough transition.
But now we've kind of muddled our way through that. Rosie is showing signs of maybe wanting to be on a schedule, so I'm trying to figure out a good balance of getting out versus staying in. I'm crazy grateful that leaving the house and abandoning the ideal routine doesn't send me into a panic like it did when I was a first-time mom, but let's be real: it's still stressful and I'd prefer not to do it. And I'm starting to see that Noah needs some concrete interaction with me when we do stay home, because expecting him to entertain himself all morning doesn't cut it.
So here we are, in the in-between. I feel more normal, but I don't look normal and I can't fit into my old clothes. I crave balanced meals, quiet alone time, and exercise, but I can't quite make it a reality when I'm needed from 5:30am-9pm, and usually at least once or twice beyond that, too. I am a mom to a three year old and a mom to a three month old, but I'm not sure how to be both at once. And even in this season-between-seasons, I have to make myself stop and pause, because it's so so beautiful, and I don't want to wish it away. As Lisa-Jo Baker says, "mothers never want it to be over. Even the hard stuff. They may want it to stop. They may want to find room to breathe, to weep, to panic. But they don't want it to end-- this delivering, shaping, cheering, loving, bringing life into the world."
My hands are full, but so is my heart.
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