Tuesday, March 8, 2011


Why is it that complaining makes you feel better?  Spewing frustration, unfairness, and stress always makes me feel slightly better. Is it because you get it off your chest? Is it because maybe just maybe someone feels the same way or has sympathy for you. I have always been a complainer. It helps me work through stressful situations. It helps to talk about things. The only problem is...I shouldn't be complaining. I am truly one lucky lady. I have a beautiful baby, an amazing husband, and a career. Handling all of these things together is overwhelming. It is a juggling act that requires a lot more practice and planning on my part. The ONLY ball that I want to remain in the air is being with my baby.

After almost two months back at work, I should be adjusted. I should be in a routine, in the groove, moving along, but I am not. I am still breaking down. Complaining is unacceptable two months later. People assume you are just fine...it has been two months why wouldn't you be fine!?! A very wise friend gave me some good advice today. Once you accept that this is life, it will start to get easier. This sounds like the truth. Instead of complaining and feeling guilty and missing my baby, I need to accept that this is life.

When I drop off the little peanut every morning, I have to drag myself out of my mom's house. I have to make a conscious effort to fight back the tears. I try to remind myself how lucky and blessed I am that I have a baby to return to at night. A beautiful, healthy baby.

As my sweet little girl continues to change every day, I try to hold on to what she is like, how she looks, and what she does today. When I close my eyes, I see a gummy smile with little balled up fists clasping her monkey blankie by her mouth. I see little red marks on white, chubby knuckles from the new obsession of finger and hand sucking.

I can feel her little quarter inch fuzz that is growing on the top of her head tickle my lips and nose as I kiss and snuggle her. I love the especially fuzzy and soft look after one of her baths.

Can you see the peach fuzz on top of her cute little head? 
I can see her long, slightly curled eyelashes that rest on the chubbiness of her cheeks as she naps in her carseat.

I will remember the soft moans and mumbles, those sweet oooooohs that come from this baby girl when she is alone in her carseat while I am driving. She is talking to herself and singing herself to sleep. I love turning the radio off and listening to her sweet voice.

These little things are the things that I will hold on to. These are the little things that make it hard for me to adjust, but these are the little things that help me make it through a day away.

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