It’s seems like this was the week where we went over the brim. There was a lot of calendar, but moreso it felt like I had reached max-capacity in my mind. I started to think this might be the case when I signed on to FaceBook at some point during the week, realized they had “streamlined” their format (again), and decided the only proper response to this was an hour-long nap. So that’s where we are these days.
On the “I’m a mom!!” front, I became acutely aware of how much love and how many people we have helping us wander through these first couple years. We had a couple days back to back where I was told or sent really sweet sentiments about Zo and realized how much this has sustained me through her life so far. I don’t know what it would be like to not have this kind of encouragement and I don’t know how people go about this without it.
With nicer, warmer days we’ve been taking walks. Zo notices flowers and dogs and cars and balloons, which in her mind are anything colorful and round. On a walk with Sarah and Mom she found the joy of mud and hills and running away.
We’ve called on our fearless and brave babysitters so much this week and as a result every morning when Z wakes up and starts listing her people (family members) she has added “LowLa” (Laura) and “Jabby” (Gaby.) The other day she also threw in “JLo” but that probably has more to do with making her watching Gigli over breakfast.
I’ve listened to this: For Sandy Hook Killer’s Father, Tragedy Outweighs Love For His Son
Talked about this: For Working Moms, Key To Balance May Lie In Elusive Leisure Time
Started reading this: The Noonday Demon | Andrew Solomon
Listened to this: Lowland Hum | The Multisensory Artistic Collaboration of Daniel and …
And prayed (in verse) something like this:
Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers to-day;
And give us not to think so far away
As the uncertain harvest; keep us here
All simply in the springing of the year.
Oh, give us pleasure in the orchard white,
Like nothing else by day, like ghosts by night;
And make us happy in the happy bees,
The swarm dilating round the perfect trees.
And make us happy in the darting bird
That suddenly above the bees is heard,
The meteor that thrusts in with needle bill,
And off a blossom in midair stands still.
For this is love and nothing else is love,
The which it is reserved for God above
To sanctify to what far ends He will,
But which it only needs that we fulfill.