I forgot to mention last week that I put on a pair of my favorite pants before I got pregnant and they fit. I remember buying them, it was the fall of 2014 and the weight I’d gained from the lost pregnancies wasn’t going anywhere. I walked out of the gap outlet with a fall wardrobe and said to my mom, ” watch I’ll spend all this money and be pregnant.” I think Ian was conceived shortly after. What is it about surrender that makes everything fall into place and why is it so hard to do?

I’ve been thinking about stupid questions we’ve somehow programmed ourselves to talk about with regards to kids like sleep. How kids sleep, where, how long, with whom etc. in the end it doesn’t really matter. I would really love to know what is the best part about being a mother today and the most challenging. 

I think for me the challenge is feeling like I don’t have enough patience and the best is bedtime (especially when I am patient). I rock Ian to sleep in his room as he nurses. It’s the rare moment we have alone together. Some days we play for a few minutes before he settles and others his eyes close as he latches. I love watching him fall asleep. One moment he is awake and the next his eyes are half open and the next breath his eyes close and his body melts. It’s a tender moment of surrender. It’s the complete goodbye of the day, clean slate for tomorrow. It’s a gentle reminder that whatever happened that day it’s over and all that’s left is love. 

Lia is different. We snuggle down in bed and I can feel her mind zooming a million miles a second. I’m ready to “clock out” for the evening but this is her time to have me all to herself. I fight the urge to tell her to just go to &$@!? Sleep already. It’s the time of day her mind is clear and I get to hear what’s on her heart. It’s such a privilege and so easy to take for granted. She eventually settles, her limbs first then her breathing. I swear she is fully asleep before she lets her eyes finally close. I linger, trying to fathom how on earth she has already gotten so very big. Some day it won’t be like a girls sleepover every night with giggles and inside jokes. I keep these moments close to my heart it’s what makes the seven hundred and three challenging, not my best, exasperated moments of the day worth pushing through. They don’t know it but we are growing (up) together and I’m so lucky to have these teachers of mine.

I officially have a 9 month old today. He gets around and into everything by scooting on his butt. He loves soups of all kinds and really hasn’t met a food he didn’t like so far. 🙂 it’s amazing all that happens in the first year of life. 

I’ve been lackadaisical about my core exercises. Mostly it creeps away little by little and I felt like my strength backslide quite a bit this week. It’s so much like being consistent as a parent. Once in awhile is no big deal but sometimes once in awhile becomes all the time and then there are consequences. So it’s been a good reminder to remember to take care of myself. My hunger has waned quite a bit too. Happy first day of spring.

Here it is again that time to reflect on another week past. I’ve been struggling a lot lately with patience and a quickly flared temper and probably burn out. I’ve also been reaching out, gaining perspective and support and reading and trying new ways. Spring is a nice remember of renewal and kids are so great about being quick to forgive and also having the ability for plenty of space for practice. These kids that chose me have been wonderful teachers in so many ways. 

This week I learned of my first acupuncture teacher’s passing and it’s caused much reflection in all the pearls of wisdom I gleaned from him and all the compassion and passion he molded for me not as an Acu punk but as a human. He was unabashedly himself and that takes lots of guts to be so raw. He helped me through a rough patch during my schooling when I was really sick and even bought herbs for me. His hands were as gentle as his heart with his needles and it was so comforting to be taken care of by him and held in such a loving space. He gave me a freedom to trust my gut and ask questions and try new things even letting me practice on him. It shaped much of the way I taught. I’m not sure I even realized how much he impacted my way of holding space for others until I learned he was no longer here. 

I’ve spent quite a bit of time the past few weeks contemplating impact as I think of those that impacted me that are no longer here. I think especially of my father who has been a part of my life for as much time as he hasn’t. In the end how much impact do we have on our children? It’s both comforting and terrifying. 

These losses are other reminders of how very short life is, how quickly seasons pass. 

Week 37

I’ve been avoiding writing mainly because I can’t complete a thought because well kids and not much sleep. The last few weeks have felt like one very long continuous day or ground hogs day. I feel dazed. It’s hard to be so needed and so loved. I poured two cups of tea today, one was half drunk before it was cold and long forgotten and the other was accidentally spilled all over the table, that about sums it up. 😉 

I’ve noticed that in addition to the crazy hunger I also no longer have an issue with body odor. I remember nursing last time and not smelling so much. It happened this time recently where I don’t require as much baking soda (deodorant) and I’m not really sweaty. Maybe another hormonal shift?

I’ve lost two more pounds despite copious amounts of dessert type food which means I’m two pounds away from what the scale said before I got pregnant with Ian. Of course my body is totally different and some of my old clothes fit just fine and others even ones that were loose before just don’t. I’m feeling really doughy which seems to happen before another shift in my body, it’s like everything needs to melt down. 

Lia keeps talking about the baby in my belly that is going to come out. It’s completely freaking me out! (No I’m not pregnant)

Week 36

This was a challenging week. I was busy preparing for my daughters first (and 4th birthday), a family friend died and my husband started school. A flip switched on too and my hunger has been ravenous especially for fats. I was in a bit of an existential crisis for a bit pondering what it all means and the only thing I came up with is the point is to be present, here and now is all we have, which is pretty cliche and also really hard to do. I made it to yoga on Saturday and found I could barely breathe, I wasn’t in my body at all and all I could hear in my head was my baby crying. I felt better after and so much better after Lia’s homemade, from scratch party was complete. It was all so much fun. Speaking of not being present I also thought this was week 36 so I made this side by side comparison of 36 weeks pregnant and post partum and it left my feeling in awe and inspired. The human body just blows my mind sometimes. 

Eight months ago I became a mother to a son. I still can’t believe it. I look at this smiley, happy boy and wonder where he came from. How did eight months pass so quickly and how on earth is he already wearing 18 month clothes with 3 teeth and walking around the furniture?! Can everything but the hour before bedtime slow down just a little?

The third trimester postpartum is interestingly similar in reverse to being pregnant. I’ve lost quite a bit of weight recently. It’s funny how in retrospect it hardly seemed like much time at all. I’m 6 pounds away from what the scale said before I got pregnant. I wore my special size 8 lucky brand jeans I bought when Lia was 6 months old this week. 

I stop in my tracks though pretty much anytime I pass a mirror naked. I actually think who is that?! Not in a bad way. It makes me think of being a child and seeing real women’s bodies: my mom’s, my sisters. All real, all women. No airbrushing or good angles or filters or whatever we subject ourselves to now. Those innocent eyes of mine then believed that is what a woman’s body looks like. Curvy and soft, strong and well used. Do you remember waiting for boobs to fill a bra? I do, even as an “adult” I yearned for cleavage in the right outfits. I remember having small, perky breasts. I’m in no way well endowed now but I have a grown woman’s body now. My breasts touch my body when I bend over startling me as I wonder what this new sensation is. My hips are wide and rolling and sturdy, my legs and butt are strong. My belly is soft and only slightly stretched but fierce. My arms carry a 20+ pound baby around all day. My body has held 4 children inside, 2 that have made it to the other side. My body is not my own, it’s the whole universe. So this body I pass by in the mirror now that has been so well used shocks me because of the awe of it all, how amazingly ordinary and extraordinary it is to grow a child, birth a child, continue to nourish a child from the outside and it all happens without a whole lot of conscious thought. We need to stop hiding these amazing, real post partum bodies. There is as much beauty here as there ever was. I’ve earned this body of mine. 

  
There’s a great article floating around about how we need to stop talking about getting our bodies back. They are right here. I’m healthier and stronger now then I might have ever been in my whole life. The most important thing is that I’ve found faith and trust in my body again. How much could we change the world if we poured all this energy we waste on worrying about what a scale says or the size of our pants are on things that really matter? How much would your world change? 

I missed a picture and I actually have a lot to say but not the time just quite yet. So I will leave you wish a picture of week 33 in Guatemala. 

Last week was full, this week was f-a-s-t. When I first was settling into being a stay at home mom there were many mornings when a tiny part of me would be filled with a certain terror as my husband readied himself for work. “How on Earth will we survive until dinner time?!?” It took a long time for the last remnants of that terror to fade. We have a great groove now. There’s less terror and never it seems enough time. Yesterday the kids were side by side lost in their own play. I stood out of view from the kitchen in awe of the peace and the quiet (especially since the drive home from school was less than quiet or peaceful. I think the yelling and tears were from being overheated and Ian joined in sympathy I can’t even remember).

  
I got my official mom hair cut this week. Maybe I shouldn’t say mom but birthday haircut. Ian has been pulling my hair and it was time for a change. My hair was similar when Lia was this age too. I think this concludes the “make-over.”

  
My husband and I were having a fitbit challenge this week. I thought I was pretty active running after the kiddos, turns out I’m not. It takes quite a bit of effort to get to 10k steps but once I started paying attention it wasn’t that hard to do and its made me more active than I ever would be without it. Plus, I won the challenge. Boo-yah. haha. It has actually been alot of fun. We race each other around the house and Lia cheers us on and switches teams to her fancy. Movement that is fun is always way easier to commit to. The scale hasn’t changed any but I feel like my composition is. The best bonus is I feel more energized.

I participated in a really cool project about Joyful Birth this week too. I can’t wait to see the finished work. It felt like sharing Ian’s birth story in this way was the final piece of healing I needed. I will share more about that as it unfolds. It was such an honor to be a part of it.

Its my birthday weekend. Looking forward to celebrating another trip around the sun.