I've seen it many times before, and I've found it true for myself as well-- there is hardly any time or energy for blogging when one is the mother of a newborn.
What is my life now? I could list all the minutiae and illustrative anecdotes to describe first social smiles, late-night co-feeding conversations with Husband, watching my dad fall into the grandfather role, any of the plethora of ways that my parenting is different from what I always said I'd do (and many ways it very consciously isn't)... but those are all just pieces I'd be painstakingly assembling to try and depict what my life looks and feels like now, and it still wouldn't do this new life justice.
Nothing is the same. There are blessings in all the details of my existence-- after five hours of nearly nonstop evening breastfeeding, a few moments alone in the kitchen doing dishes takes on a "sitting in a cafe in Paris on s beautiful spring day" type sense of freedom and independence. I relish my "free" time, which is nearly exclusively spent doing housework. Who knew housework could feel so rewarding and freeing? I've become obsessed with having a clean house now that the holidays and babies have all but destroyed it.
It's 12:23am and I'm typing on my iPhone while my family, husband and babies and dog, all sleep in one room. Someday soon, I'll have my computer on hand, and I'll tell you all the things I want to say about my sweet girls who will be two months old in less than a week and graduating from "newborn" to "infant." Time moves in strange, warped waves around here lately and I'm not quite sure how we got so far from November...
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