April 30, 2008
While I was pregnant, I often wondered how I would be able to handle life with a baby. “It will be a different pace,” I’d say. And I would get knowing, but secretive grins back from parents who had been there. I know myself quite well and though the days aren’t quite as tedious I thought they might be (nursing, changing diapers, bathing and napping — the baby not me of course), I have found myself going a bit stir crazy on the occasional day. I have made 2 cakes since he was born 7 weeks ago which is 1 more cake than I made in the previous year.
But most days I am in awe of how quickly the days go by even without my usual jam-packed schedule. It turns out a sleeping boy on my chest is exactly how I want to spend a good 90 minutes every day. I usually have the computer or a book or magazine nearby, but I am easily distracted by the pattern of his breathing or to stare one more time at his perfect face in complete wonderment.
The sleepless nights and early mornings were something I dreaded full force, but most days I am able to shake the grumpiness off in exchange for a bubbly, smiling baby who just can’t wait to get his day started. It’s very cliche, I know, but he reminds me of everything good in the world (driving with the sunroof open on the first spring day, the smell of a wood fire in October, making the first tracks in a bed of pristine snow, whipped cream anyway it comes — you get the picture). Many times a day, I get the chance to appreciate what a moment can offer. And so with Elliott (with Peat on the right), I have a persistent reminder that life in slow motion is not only good, it’s perfect.