Adjusting

Whew.  I can't believe it's mid-June already.  My baby girl is 2.5 weeks old!!  If I blink, she'll be going to kindergarten!  Ahh!!

I'm getting a lot of "How are things going?  How are you doing?  How are you managing?" texts and calls lately, and my favorite response is "We're adjusting."  There's really just no better way to put it.  Saying "Everything is peachy!!" would be a lie, and saying "Some days I cry at least five times." might scare someone.  So I think the word "adjusting" adequately expresses the positive and negative things that come with adding a new little baby to the family.

Positive and negative, you say?  Yes.  There are negative things.  I won't sugar coat it for you.  I'm exhausted.  I'm literally a walking zombie some mornings.  I didn't want to get back on drinking coffee so soon (trying to keep my breastmilk as decaf as possible), but that lasted all of two days.  I have to do the majority of my daily tasks one-handed, and when your eight year old loves waffles and needs a ponytail and some sunscreen, that's no small feat.  Also, every time something is "wrong" - baby acne, yellow spit up, crying for more than a few minutes - there's this panicky feeling that sweeps through me, and the doubt in the back of my mind gets louder - "Are you sure you're cut out for this??  Will she ever stop?  Should I call the pediatrician?  What were you thinking?"

Listen, kids.  Parenting one child is rough.  Are you paying them enough attention?  How many days has it been since they had a vegetable?  Do you have them involved in enough activities?  And are you still making time for yourself?  My mom warned me that two kids was more of an exponential relationship than a linear one, but I didn't really believe her until about a week ago Monday when Riley was a week old, everyone was back home or at work, and it was just me and the girls.  You want to talk about overwhelmed.

And there are days when I cry five times.  The first time it's "I love her so much, and I only have 10 weeks left to be with her.  I can't go back to work."  Then it's "I'm not paying any attention to Alli.  She's going to have the worst summer ever."  Followed by "I've lost my identity.  I need to get out of the house, go back to work, talk to a grown up."  I am trying to be as open as possible about my emotional roller coaster because I don't want to feel guilty about it.  I love Riley, and I am so happy she's here.  But hell, people, this is hard.  And not just physically, but emotionally too.  And not all of it is the 1.5 hours of sleep at a time, either.

But then we have a morning like this one.

Or I load them both up and get to a riding lesson (only 10 minutes late) or Vacation Bible School.  Or I have my first successful pumping session, which symbolizes a few hours of "me time" at a later date.  Or I get a little face like this one.

And I remember that one time not so long ago Alli was that age, and now she's nine going on nineteen, and I can't carry her anymore, and one day in the not so distant future I am going to be totally uncool to be seen with in public (but then I'll be cool again when she's in her 20s, I just know it).  I mean, Ryan met Alli here:

And came home three months later to her here:

So I know it goes by really fast.  Really really really fast.  Chicken legs to Michelin man thighs in 3 months.  But when it's 2AM and you haven't slept well since December thanks to pregnancy, it can be hard to remember.  But yes, to answer your question - we're all adjusting.  If it's a really good day, I'll throw "well" on the end of it.  But most of the time, it's an hour by hour (or minute by minute) kind of thing.