Reset Button

As I was chatting with my friend Jessica this past Monday, I was discussing the recent date night that my love and I were gifted with, courtesy of my Mother in Law babysitting both kiddos.

And as I was chatting about it, I found myself saying, "It is like we hit a Reset Button."

And it really is.

I feel like we have finally hit our groove and gotten into our new routine as a family of four.

Other parents will tell you that you live those first few weeks on pure, intense, love and adrenaline and it is so true. It all seems...easy...in a way. You are so full to bursting with love and excitement.

But then, inevitably, the sleep deprivation hits. And the fact that you have to still you know, live your life and do laundry and dishes and cook dinner and all the minutiae that just sort of slipped by the wayside while you were living those glorious glow-y new moments of joy and discovery of this new, very loved person.

And then it seems that you are scrambling just to survive.

Go, go go.

Pick up the baby, rock the baby, soothe the baby, feed the baby...

...all the while using your foot to push the toddler away from the knives in the dishwasher that you were just unloading, but were interrupted, because all of a sudden the baby needed to be fed, so now you are nursing, standing up on one foot and pushing her away with the other to save her from herself...

...and somehow that dishwasher never does get unloaded, because there is other stuff that happens and when you finally manage to get both kids content at the same time and you finally flop down on the couch, again while nursing the baby, to turn on that show you have been trying to watch all day week month, your husband walks in, because it is suddenly five o'clock...

And that, my friends, is the hump.

That is the hill that you need to trudge up with all of your energy and might, so that when you reach the top you can see the road ahead of you.

Because you adjust and adapt and stand up and say, "I can do this."

Because you can. Of course, you can.

Sure, there are other hills and valleys to come, you can already see them ahead of you, but all of a sudden, you can also see the intrinsic beauty in that glorious view that is your new reality.

And you take a deep breath, and take it all in and enjoy it.

And then suddenly you are walking down the hill and thinking, "Well, that wasn't so bad after all."




Evelyn Rae is 21 months old, Liam is 2 months old

...and thanks for sticking with me over the past few weeks while I took a bit of a break to take in my new view.