I feel like I don’t have much to say these days and therefore my writing feels a bit parched for unique experience. My life is like the most uneventful ground hog day. Truly when I say this I feel blessed to live it! The details of it are very much lived in the subtle joys and simples pleasures of raising a mini human who has no idea how to survive earth side and yet she holds more wisdom in her curiosity to learn, that it makes the most menial moments reinvigorated with awe. What that fancy sentence means is – my life revolves around a baby, which if you have spent anytime with one, their world is pretty small but blissfully full and so mine is quite humbled to that too.
Everyday is woken up by Rosie (anywhere from her 3rd to 8th wake up) so no matter what, even on our so called good nights, I have not had more than 4 consecutive hours of sleep (and that is a really good night) and so we play in bed for the first 20 minutes, me blurry eyed and disoriented, Rosie bushy tailed and purposeful. Then I drag my half lidded gaze over myself in the mirror to see the horrifying outcome of 11 months with very little sleep and can rate the night based on how brutal my hair transports me back to the 80s. Sometimes I gasp at the horror that is my eyes swollen with resentment for being open.
A few months ago I finally broke down and started drinking half-caf coffee again (after two years caffeine free) as a life raft to get my brain producing somewhat coherent sentences. Sleep deprivation has led to some of the most hilarious incoherent communication and babble that luckily are well received by a baby who speaks more clearly than i do some mornings.
Once that coffee hits my lips (thank you Ben) and convinces my mind that I am real (and not in a dream), I bask in the joy of being climbed like a tree by my Rosie. We eat breakfast together. Well Ben and I eat, Rosie mostly throws it, smooshes it into her clothes for a new design, and rubs it into her nose holes, hair and behind her ears for safe keeping.
Once we have hosed off from our morning mealtime, Rosie is on the move, doing her room to room routine, visiting all her spots that she has conquered and claimed, and then a silence hits. It’s too quiet. So I do my own rounds checking the 4 possible places she can be to find she has discovered a new cupboard she can now open and empty every single content! I laugh for a moment because it is so cute and then it turns into gentle tears because I know now that she will start figuring this out for every cupboard in the house and that is a lot of extra time cleaning ahead of me. The exact opposite of how I want to spend my one hour of space when she is napping. Did I mention she is down to one fairly short nap a day?
As the morning wizzes by, I am lucky to have brushed my teeth, washed my gargoyle looking face, massaging cream into the cracks and dark crevices, and gotten dressed into very pyjama like clothes that move and are ready to be stained at any moment. This is my first non Rosie related win of the day!
After some more play, its time to for the big show down – putting Rosie down for a nap. This is an ever changing and evolving process which we have been told to routine but my child rebels against anything that could make my life easier (insert my own mother saying some comment about how much my daughter didn’t far fall from the tree). And so we wrestle and tustle for the precious moment where silence is earned and relished and we tip toe our way to a sacred hour or so of self care. Often whoever walks out of the hallway leading to the bedroom with success bows every time like they have one an academy award for best supporting sleep aid. If it was a particularly horrific tragedy of a showing, one may come out tail between the legs holding a cackling and conniving miss Rosie in their arms as she knows she has defeated us and will now be entertained by a stroller walk or a drive in the hopes that she might fall asleep this way.
Thank goodness more often than not we get one successful crib nap and there is time to garden or embody a movement practice, or write, or take off on a run (pending the other is home of course) or sometimes when the night was so rough, I lie out on the deck on my back and stare up at the sky and let the birds serenade my weary bones and the fresh air lull me into some gentle movement.
The moment the first sounds of an awake baby hit my ears, my body is both parts cringing at the non stop mayhem that is going to go on for the rest of the day and equally ecstatic, like wrestle Ben out of the way I am so excited, to get that first post-nap smile and snuggle with my little tornado of wonder. There are more messy meals, room hopping to explore every item it possesses, patio and backyard tours, countless diapers changed and rinsed (reusable diapers is a noble journey) and walks around the neighbourhood, on the beach and in the woods to be had. Rosie teaches me so much about movement, living in presence and inquisitiveness, all things I love, so all in all the day feels absolutely complete and yet a whirlwind of un-productivity. When 530 hits us in the face seemingly out of nowhere, the countdown for 7pm bedtime begins. It involves nudie time… which is Rosie zipping around naked and giggly for the last 30 minutes and leaves us all blissfully grateful for this weird and wonderful time of our lives. We are re-energized by the fact that although the baby vortex meant another day gone, we couldn’t imagine our life without her.
When Rosie is finally asleep for her first stretch, there is often a moment where Ben and I hug, holding eachother like we survived the apocalypse and equally celebrating our amazing little creation. We check in about how we want to spend our adult time after a few mins of breathing in the quiet wake of another successful day keeping Rosie alive. Sometimes we spend it separately, nourishing our individual needs, and other days we take the time together, chatting and then stretching and massaging eachother (mostly PG rated but the odd R rated moments too).
It’s funny how something so seemingly uneventful can feel so deeply rewarding that for the first time in my life as an adult, I feel completely at peace with who I am and how I spend my time. I don’t feel this incessant nagging to strive for things outside of me. I feel wholly full and complete. Sincerely exhausted in the most satisfying way. And deeply heart awakened to the truth that this life has always been mine to create.
Sending each and everyone of you out there who take the time to read my writing a big wave of love.
You deserve to experience all that your heart longs to learn.