I had just succeeded in getting Henry to doze off to sleep in his sling after about 20 minutes of swaying, bouncing, and lullabies. He was cranky that day, which is atypical for him. I had already toiled away the first five hours of my day trying to catch up on laundry and catch up on sleep, all while entertaining a newborn in between. Suddenly I was almost taken back by the condition my house was in. I couldn't even find a space on the table to set the bowl of ramen noodles I was going to attempt to eat with the baby attached to my chest. Now, keep in mind that I am in no way a neat freak or great housekeeper. I struggle quite often with laziness when it comes to cleaning and even sometimes basic picking up after myself. So, it takes a pretty high level of clutter to really get under my skin. But this was just beyond. I grabbed my camera and snapped the above photos with the purpose of memorializing what our home should never look like again. The mess was really starting to stress me out. And then Baby Henry shifted a little and grunted in his sleep. I looked at him, snoozing right under my chin and I was so very thankful for him. It felt like, right then and there, I loved him more than I had ever loved him before. And I remembered a post I had read awhile back on a blog that I regularly follow. The mother was talking about treasuring the time when her children were small because it was so very fleeting. She talked about how, when she was old, she would so painfully miss these moments when her babies were small and needed her so much. And I realized how much that now applied to my own life.My life - the life I'm living right now - the life that leaves me un-showered with frizzy/spit-up caked hair. The life that causes bags under my eyes, a house that looks like a tornado ripped through, and a relentless ache in my upper back on the side where I most often hold Henry. This is the life that I will dream of returning to in 20 years when Henry is in college and I only see him on random weekends and holiday breaks. When he finds time in between classes to shoot me a quick email or maybe a text; when he loads up his trunk and heads back to his "life"; when he wears cologne and meets his future wife...I will long to turn back the clock, even if just for an hour, to this life I'm living right now. To watch his tiny 11-pound self drift off to sleep in my arms. To pace the floors with him (and Daddy, of course) from the hours of 7 - 10 p.m. while we work through his "fussy time". To feel his tiny fingers brushing my skin while I nurse him. To smell his baby hair right after his bath. I'll wish for this time. I'll long for it.
So I'm going to embrace the piled-up laundry, the caked-with-dried-spaghetti dishes, the throbbing back, and the all-day-pajamas look I'm beginning to perfect. Because this life I'm living right now is my dream.
Oh man...remember when I used to be able to think of funny things to blog about? Now I just ooze with sap!! :)