Damn girl, that's a lot of fattitude

It’s been a week. Boy, has it been a week.

A friend of mine passed away last Sunday. She was only 30, recently married and has a 4 month old son. I feel like it could have just of easily been me. I’ve spent this past week reflecting and realizing that I care too much about shit that doesn’t matter and not enough about the things that do. I found myself getting frustrated that I haven’t been able to clean the house to my liking or cook as much as I wanted. Pre Brooke I vacuumed daily, post Brooke I was trying to vacuum every other day and this last week, I haven’t vacuumed. I can see the dog hair on the hardwoods. My mirrors are far from spotless. My counter is cluttered and dinner has been easy stuff I can throw together.

Instead of trying to check off my to do list of chores I’ve spent the entire day just enjoying my daughter, because I can. I had this grandiose thought of what maternity leave would be like. I had all of these projects and things to do while this sweet girl happily watched me from a swing. I planned on dropping all the baby weight with diet and vigorous exercise and just knew that she would coo up at me from her play mat while I worked out next to her. How wrong I was.

In Denee’s passing I realized how much I take for granted. Nowhere in these plans did I include just enjoying and being a mother to my daughter. Nowhere in my plans did I include stopping and being in the moment.

So, this week and for all of the weeks to come, I will do my best to live in the moment and just enjoy.

Brooke and I have taken a bubble bath together every day this week. She loves it. She kicks and splashes and smiles the whole time. One bath ended with her blowing it up on me. I laughed as I cleaned the tub, I recalled a Facebook post of Denee’s about being welcomed to parenthood once your kids blows up the tub. I was cleaning the tub because we were making memories, not because it was a chore that needed to be done.

I’ve stopped worrying about if Brooke can sleep in a swing or a carrier or a crib and just held her instead. I’ve watched her eyelids flutter as she sleeps and wondered what she dreams about. I’ve watched her smile and laugh in her sleep and stroked her cheek when she grimaced in pain from a gas bubble. I’ve been there when she wakes up. I don’t go running to her because she’s crying, but watch her slowly open her eyes and smile when she realizes I’m there. Even now, I’m typing this on my phone while my sweet girl sleeps in my lap.

I’ve stopped Facebook’ing while she nurses and started being totally with her. I get lost in her eyes as she stares into mine. I play in her curls and talk to her. She watches me intently. She’s starting smiling up at me while latched. It’s the sweetest. I’m not sure I would have caught that had I been buried in my phone.

We spent two days with my mom and Aunt who’s visiting from out of town. We just enjoyed their company and soaked in all the love there is.

This week we’ve made memories. And for the rest of my days I will continue to make memories, not check things off of my list of things that need to get done.

I will never get this time back. There will be a time when it’s the last time and I won’t know until it’s too late. Until I miss it. Until it’s just a memory.

Sleep sweet, my friend. And thank you for teaching me that my days aren’t measured by anything more than the memories we make.