Bring It On, 2011

Baby, it's cold 50 degrees outside.  In Michigan.  At the end of December.  And despite the spring-like temperatures and the sun peaking out through the clouds, it's the kind of day where I all want to do is mope around in my pajamas and not brush my teeth and watch trashy TV.

Our girl has not been a very happy camper lately (teething? growth spurt? general crabbiness?), which means this mom hasn't been a very happy camper, either.  On many, many occasions these past few days I've had to remind myself that she is just a little baby and I am a mama - her mama, to be exact.  So even though it means she wakes me up every hour and she somehow seems to think we are Siamese twins attached at the hip, my job now is to be what she needs.  It's by leaps and bounds the toughest job I think I'll ever have, one that frustrates me one moment and delights me the next.  I can't believe that a year has gone by.  And at the same time, only a year has gone by??

What a wonderful, stressful, crazy, beautiful twelve months it has been since we welcomed Anna into our lives.  We celebrated her first birthday last week, and even though the cake and the balloons and the tutu she wore so darn well were all about her, secretly I was laughing and singing and grinning from ear to ear because we survived.  If there's anything that will challenge you and test your limits and push you to the edge, it's a baby.  And if you can survive a year of all-night feedings and pure exhaustion and stinky diapers, I'd bet money that there's not much you can't do.

Anna after reaching her limit on pink frosting.
This is how I feel on many, many days.

It definitely helps when you have an excellent partner in crime, as I do.  Mike is the Watson to my Holmes (or maybe it's the other way around), the Sonny to my Cher.  And he's the one who lets me sleep late on the weekends and keeps me sane at three in the morning and makes me laugh when I'm ready to stab out my own eyeballs with a fork.  Together we are conquering this force of nature that is our baby, and knowing that makes my job a whole lot easier.

So, as the last few hours of 2010 dwindle, I just might stay in my pajamas all day.  And I might not brush my teeth.  But I'll be doing it with a teething ring in my hand, a baby on my hip, and my best friend right by my side.  Sounds like the perfect way to ring in a new year.

Happy New Year!

  

Is This Real Life?

This little blog has been dancing around in my head for I don't know how long.  Kick-ball-changing and pirouetting in my brain late at night while I'm drifting off to dreamland or folding laundry or rocking my girl to sleep.  Lately, those kicks have become more dramatic and the spins are going faster and I think I'm finally ready.  I'm not too sure where it will go, or what I will say, or if anyone will read, but here goes.

I'm a wife.  And a mom.  And I have a house, and a vacuum cleaner, and two dogs and I have no idea how that all happened.  Seriously.  I feel like I'm still twelve.  Like I could blink my eyes and I would be back in my bedroom at my parents' house braiding Barbie's hair and wondering what my mom was making for dinner that night.  Except now I'm the mom.  I'm the one making grocery lists and ignoring cleaning up the dog hair piling up in the corners and taking care of another human being.  I have to keep reminding myself of that.  Most days, it feels like I'm only pretending to be a grown up, and pretty soon someone is going to find out that I really have no idea what I'm doing after all.  But I'll keep playing make believe as long as they let me, and maybe, just maybe, I'll be able to someday walk proudly amongst the real grown ups of the world.