Anyone Miss the Ramblings?

It's a weird limbo I'm living in these days: On the one hand, I'm busy like mad from dawn til dusk... but on the other hand, in the midst of that busyness, I have nothing but time. 

Life with this new little one added to the mix has, by necessity, slowed down, and yet it feels like it is nonstop-- go go go.... do, think, be, help, soothe, feed, dress, undress, change, brush, entertain, answer, assist, calm, rock, swaddle, pat, laugh, kiss, hug, explain, repeat, wait, hurry, climb, crawl, shush, wipe, sweep, sing, read, dance, drive, walk, run, collapse. 

It's odd to feel so CONSTANTLY in motion, yet have many spans of time where my body may be engaged, but my mind can drift/wander/ramble/think. I swear I've have some marvelous epiphanies in these times. But don't ask me to recollect them in any kind of coherent manner.... As soon as the roller coaster ride picks back up again, the thoughts fly away like the wind, and I'm off again until the next slow period. 

And sitting to type with two able hands at any given time for longer than 3 minutes? FORGET about it. 

And I'm missing it. Badly. The decompression of mind-dump blog posts... The time to sort, sift, explain, and come to some peace and conclusion about life through writing. I MISS IT. 

So here I am, 11:11 pm, sitting in my bed with my laptop like I'm in a movie or something (seems all the fancy modern women in movies sit in bed with their laptops. I for one have never actually done it before. I feel fancy.)... My "bedtime" is closer to 10, and I really should honor that time. But if this is the only time and the only way I'm going to manage some typing, then I'm seizing that moment and I'm running with it. It may mean less photos for a while... It may mean a LOT more "ramblings" and less of the tidy, orderly posts of yore. But here we are. I'll take what I can get. You guys will forgive me, right? 

It's that weird limbo. It's just a season of "rolling with it".... In so many ways beyond blogging style. 

And I have to say: I am FAR better at "rolling with it" this third kid around than I ever was with my other two. This third kiddo has forced me to let go LET GO let go in ways I could not have ever imagined. And it's ultimately been so liberating to realize that in letting go, life keeps going, does NOT fall apart, kids adapt, *I* adapt, and we all emerge on the other side intact and even a little stronger than we've ever been before. It's been a lovely revelation.

I still have PLENTY of moments where the old self, the one clinging hard to that false sense of "control", she comes screaming into the picture, tightening the muscles in my chest into knots of anxiety when things aren't going as they "should"... That old self will probably always hover at the edges of the day, waiting to do that.... 

But I'm getting stronger at calming her down and reminding her we're practicing "rolling with it". And we're getting better at it. 

My counselor heard me talking this way and she summarized it so nicely:

"You're much more confident this time around, aren't you?"

Bingo. 

Yes. 

(Except when I'm not. Which is several times a day. But then there are several times a day I do it anyway, and I breathe through it, and maybe that IS confidence--- acting and moving forward in spite of the worry or insecurity... only to emerge on the other side having survived. Every time I do this, I get stronger.)

MORE CONFIDENT. 

Boy, that feels good to hear... and then to examine... and then to internalize as truth. 

Aside: Have I mentioned I have a counselor? Jamie. I was introduced to her when I was struggling with "Lucy-fer" and my own reactions and garbage resulting from that time... She and I worked together for a season then. So when I found out I was pregnant with Quinn, I got in touch with her again and we've been working together since the week before he was born. I don't know why I still feel a twinge of that stigma around having baby blues/mild PPD/or just COPING struggles... I feel sheepish that I don't just come into new motherhood swinging and ready to fight the good fight... But I don't. I'm an emotional being. Add a hefty dose of hormones to that natural side of me, and you get a marvelously emotional BASKET CASE. Enter Jamie. And I will not be embarrassed about her. Because she is making such a difference. In helping ME to stop, pay attention, let go, and be kind to myself. I am proud of who I am with her help. 

*end aside*

See, there's that CONFIDENCE again. Owning it. This is me. Take it or leave it. 

I am a basket case. I am an emotional woman. I am an overthinker. I live for beautiful moments, and push through the hard, icky, rage-causing moments to get to the next beautiful moment. I struggle with this new version of life.... it is HARD. But I am finding more and more moments of peace. And in the end, without much more I can really say for sure about my life, I know, I ABSOLUTELY KNOW, this is exactly where I want to be. What I want to be doing. I LOVE being a mama. I'm grateful for Quinn. New-baby-who-demands-much-cries-lots-needs-mama-all-the-time Quinn. And newly-2-and-proving-it Lucy. And ever-questioning-talkative-validation-needing Noah. I'm grateful for their vulnerable tender selves and for how much they LOVE ME... imperfect-moody-too-fastidious-one-moment-too-unpredictable-the-next-moment MOM.

I love this. Even when I'm hating it. I love it. 

That's all I know for now. 

11:30. Bed.

*iPhone photos

(gosh, are they devastatingly cute or WHAT??!)