Breaks are good things.
Just under two months ago, we were (im)patiently awaiting the arrival of Baby up in beautiful Northern Michigan and alleviating the irritation that is 39-weeks-pregnant with long beach days and as much Michigan summer recreation as we could squeeze into the 16 hours of daylight.
And then my water broke at midnight after we spent July 3 running ourselves ragged with summer fun and Mark, my mom, my sister, and I set off for the hospital (45 minutes away!) at 2:30 a.m. on July 4, regretting that we hadn’t spent the afternoon napping.
And then at 4:30 p.m. on July 4, Miles Freedom McCord arrived and none of us cared that we were all basically ditzy from lack of sleep because oh my gosh, perfection in infant form.
If I were a responsible blogger, I would spend the next hour detailing the full birth story – and maybe one of these days I will – but I have about 12.5 minutes until the little guy wakes up and decides that he wants to be fed again.
While this space has quietly rested, Miles made his way through his first few weeks of life. We enjoyed a few wonderful weeks in Michigan with my family, said goodbye to Michigan and
moved squeezed into a tiny apartment in College Station, Texas. Mark is now deeply engulfed in his program and I am trying to learn how to juggle loving on and caring for our sweet little guy and working part-time from home.
If I were cool and trendy, I would talk about how Mark and I are “learning to balance” and “juggling”, but really our life right now is just insanity mildly disguised. We eat a lot of food that I can pull out of the freezer and cook in 15 minutes and most days feel like an exercise in survival. Someday I might bake a batch of cookies again.
But I’m grateful for the crazy right now, because I’m grateful for this perfect little baby that has ushered in so much joy. He is worth every bit of lost sleep, every second, every whatever-went-out-the-door-when-he-came-in.
But I do sincerely miss writing in this space and, if writing here has taught me anything, it’s that being creative is necessary to maintaining sanity. Even in the midst of stress and craziness. So I’m listening to my own advice and – now that the fog of having a newborn and the swirl of unpacking has settled a bit – I’m reminding myself to make more time to be creative.
I have so many of the beginning scraps of posts that I hope to turn into coherent thoughts this month. Today, though, I feel that it’s only fair to first share an enormous slough of cute baby photos that essentially explain my silence. Also, because it’ll help you procrastinate before you dig in to the huge pile of tasks that piled up over Labor Day Weekend. You’re welcome.