A Whole Life Ahead of Me...

I feel so good lately. Not really physically (my body feels like crap) but emotionally. Let's all pause and take advantage of my good mood 'cause with all these postpartum hormones it might only be a hop, skip and a jump to Crankytown.

I am enjoying time with my son, and learning what it means to be a mother all over again. I'm learning more patience than ever. When you have one child that's screaming for you and another, more helpless child screaming for you, you have to make a decision: tend to one physically, comfort the other one verbally. It's been a balancing act. I feel like I don't give enough attention to my almost 2 year old, who is really still a baby herself. But that's something that will get better in time.

With this child, I'm happier than I had been with my first. With my daughter, I was completely overwhelmed and wanted more than anything for my life to go back to normal. Go back to the days where I could sleep in and not worry about...well, anything. Go back to the days where I could browse stores in the mall all day just because I had nothing else to do and the clothes I picked off the rack actually fit and I didn't worry about covering up my out of shape belly.

Now? I've adjusted. I know this period of sleeplessness, oh-my-god-kid-didn't-I-just-feed-you?, you-pooped-again?-and-again?, now-I-have-to-change-your-clothes-for-the-third-time-today, will pass soon. He'll get older and I won't get to cuddle with him, because he'll think he's a big boy and doesn't need his mommy anymore. I know this, because I'm going through it with my older one. Who would've thought kids under two are dying for their independence?

So I'm just trying to take it a day at a time, holding him as much as I can, making sure the memories of this time are burned into my mind. Some might say that I've missed out on a lot having children at 22, and I can't deny that I've had to make sacrifices. Suffice it to say, my kids and my husband are now my priority. Period.

But then again, I'm only 22. Meaning, by the time my youngest is 18 and heading to college, I'll be 40. Assuming I live to about 80 (longevity runs in my family), that's 40 years of child-free living. I'll have plenty of time to do whatever and go wherever then. But for now, I'm enjoying watching my children grow up. That's enough for me.