Fancy

Thanks to Mariah for my new blog design!  I gave her a couple of ideas and a color scheme and she ran with it.  I love it!

Watch for a vlog later this week... I'm feeling brave!

Here.

My to-do list is long. Bedding needs washed, floors need swept, the bathrooms need cleaned, someone should buy some groceries, and my baby needs to have her baby clothes switched out for toddler clothes. Of course, the clothes swapping is my favorite and least favorite of my chores to do. My favorite because I love to introduce new, cute clothes to her wardrobe, and the least favorite because my baby isn't such a baby. When I consider that she could be an only child, I find myself hanging on to every stage a little bit longer than she does.

Oh, the dishwasher needs unloaded and reloaded, and the previous load that is drying on the counter needs put away. And the crockpot sitting off to the side of the sink has a ring of leftover (burnt) chili that I just can't scrub away. The counter must feel overwhelmed just like I do.

But as I was listening to the Today Show yesterday, while nursing McKinley in our special chair, I heard Hoda (or Kathie Lee, not sure) say "Be Here Now". Whatever you're doing, whoever you're with, Be Here Now. So, I let that sit all day, in my mind and on my heart.

I played some dolls and read a couple of books, and had extra tickle time. And it was hard, but I put my phone down.

I'm going to print out some signs and hang them around my house. I might get all fancy and pinterest-y and make them look pretty, or I might print them out in Comic Sans* and just hang them. The sign isn't important - the words are.

Be Here Now.

*I would never.

Back at it.

I wonder how long I can do this. Up every hour, maybe two, through the night. The squeaky glider. Closing the door behind me, then opening to double check on her.

I’m tired. I know that parents are supposed to be tired, but McKinley just doesn’t sleep well alone. Some nights she ends up in our bed. Ok, most nights.

I won’t let her cry, even if everyone says she’s playing me. I did for one night, and yes, after 7 minutes she went back to sleep. But until she can tell me what her cries mean, why should I ignore them? Maybe she has nightmares. Maybe her mattress is uncomfortable. Maybe she has a belly ache. I don’t like to sleep alone, so I’m not sure why I make her.

The monitor lights up, I hear her little cry. Grab my glasses and my phone (Thank you, God, for smart phones), and I rescue her. When she cries out, I come to her. Gosh, I’m thankful to know what that feels like.

The days (and nights) are so long. But the years. They are flying by. Soon, this will be a memory. And as odd as it sounds, I don’t want to forget.