quick notes …

There’s so much that I have been wanting to write recently, but I haven’t been setting aside the time to do it.  Even now I’m only here to give you little snippets of my life.

I’m planning a birthday party for Darwin.  He’s turning 2, which seems monumentally unreasonable.  He’s like a tornado these days and it’s utterly exhausting.  But he’s also gentle and kind and a beautiful human being.  I got frickin’ lucky.

A week ago I took a dance class … my first exercise-type thing since the 40 days yoga thing I did.  The dance class was awesome.  It’s NIA, which stands for Neuromuscular Integration Activity (a big fancy name for something that’s essentially new-age free-form jazzercise).  I frickin’ love it and am planning on going every week.

Since taking that class I’ve gone for two runs with the boy and a hike by myself.  I’m not willing to let my body be a reason for me to be upset anymore.  It’s something I actually have control over.  It’s time.

I’m feeling incredibly stressed about turning 30 in January.  It’s still a little ways off, but I feel it looming over me every day.

After Halloween I’m going to work on giving up sweets.  This is going to be worse than giving up smoking in a lot of ways.  God, I miss smoking …

I love fall.  I love the colors and the sounds and the rain and the rapidly dropping temperatures.  I love apple pie and soup.  I love going for hikes and having the ground covered with leaves that are the same color as the trees surrounding me.  I love gathering with friends for pumpking carving and hot cider.  I love hot chocolate before bed.

(See what I mean about how hard it’s going to be to give up sweets?)

Good night, my darlings.  When my mind is more settled I’ll write more cohesively.   XOXOXO


time passes …

On Sunday night Darwin spent the night at his Nana’s house.  This was the first time that he had ever spent the night not just away from home, but also sleeping anywhere other than in the bed with me.

I couldn’t sleep.  I tossed and turned all night long, searching for his tiny, warm body.  Usually he’s a source of annoyance at night — kicking, whining, constantly waking up when he’s still supposed to be sleeping — but I found that I actually did not sleep as well without him there.  I know it’s the first of many times.  And I know that next time it’ll be easier for me to sleep.  But oh, I felt lost without having his tiny face to wake up to.

It’s strange how difficult it is to be a mother, how difficult it is to be the sole source of comfort and love and education and safety for an entire other human being.  And then it’s strange how difficult it is to see that wane.

So last night, when he was back in our bed, I cherished every kick, every waking moment, and reveled in the pleasure of snuggling my face against his little warm neck and breathing in his scent.