And though I had every intention of documenting every second of my tiny humans life by way of blogging and picture taking, my perfect plans have been sweetly disrupted by the inevitable.
Scarlett has integrated perfectly into our little world, and we've made sure that we've stayed true to ourselves and who we are since the first day we brought her home. Already a seasoned traveler, she's been in three different states before she was even five weeks old, visiting the many family and friends who lovingly prayed her into existence.
Great for showing her off, not so great for developing a routine.
Everything I thought I knew about myself and babies has been tested, and it's amazing to watch my life slowly shift from our family of two to a family of three. Always a type A personality, I've spent my share of time struggling with nonexistent schedules, the fact that cleaning has become an afterthought, and my plans to document every moment of every day has been replaced with the more broad goal of keeping my sweet little girl alive and content.
It's strange for me to subtly embrace these unorganized changes. Every once in a while my obsessive compulsive disorder flares up and I panic because I haven't kept up with specific goals and self inflicted deadlines, but then I look at Scarlett Grace and remember that she is my new normal, my new life; and she's pretty insistent on not following any rules, guidelines, or schedules that we read about in the library of baby books or the well intended advice of family and friends.
So instead we are making up new ones, together.
And since I planned on doing weekly documentation of my growing miracle but instead am the proud owner of a mess of unfinished posts and a jumble of mismatched pictures to sort through, I've decided to simplify my goals in attempt to learn to manage my time constructively. So instead, I present to you a quick rundown of everything I know and love from the day she came home until now, and a half hearted promise of pictures to come.
Cloth diapers are way better than disposables, being attached to a breast pump makes me feel so ridiculous I can't help but laugh, and Boppy's are quite possibly the best invention ever. Aden + Anais bamboo blankets are the only ones we'll use, and it's very important that every day my makeup is done and my daughter is dressed up, weather we plan to leave the house or not.
But despite the debilitating California heat and the fact that tiny humans require a ridiculous amount of stuff, we do leave the house every day, because I can't stand to hold still for too long.
It's absolutely possible to shower every single day, just as long as you skip the infamous advice and don't sleep while the baby sleeps. Breast milk is like gold, the cure for everything from baby acne and underdeveloped tear ducts to colds and eczema, and when it comes to pajamas, gowns are better than zippers and snaps any day.
Sometimes, I just let her cry. If I don't, I won't get anything done. But I hate the way it sounds and it breaks my heart, so the tears never last long.
For grandparents, adding a baby into the mix is like giving them crack cocaine; an expensive sort of habit that makes them talk funny and act strange, and it's an addiction they will never get enough of.
It's also the best gift you could ever give them.
If you can't force your child to take a pacifier, be warned that they may attempt to use your nipples as such. And able to defy gravity, little girls can somehow pee upwards too, only instead of a tiny stream like little boys, it's more like a fountain. And there is nothing more precious than watching a brand new father awkwardly hold his tiny human in his bear claw hands, singing the first song that comes to mind at the top of his lungs in attempt to stop the tears.
No wonder they write so many country songs about that sort of thing.
I'm sure there will be more to come, but for now, this is what I know to be true. All of the above, and the fact that my daughter is a rockstar.
She is so beautiful and perfect I can hardly stand it. I look at her and I see this amazing gift that God created in me and for me, and all I can do is ask desperately for Him to give me the wisdom I need to raise her for Him. To teach her to love and trust Him, to be a servant to others and to glorify Him with her life; all things I'm still struggling to accomplish myself.
She has her daddy's gold skin and heart shaped lips, coupled with my eyes and dimpled right cheek, and she's-quite literally-our little star. Bright an burning, she possesses both the hot, bronze fire of the sun that I am and the cool, calm gray of the moon that her father is.
It's amazing to watch her personality begin to develop somewhere in between the crazy mix of differences that her father and I are. I feel so incredibly blessed to know that she is ours, that God created her just for us; a tiny, miraculous extension of our hopes, dreams, and DNA; and I can only pray that she only inherits good parts of me, and not the seemingly endless bad ones.
I see her now, kicking her long legs and flailing her skinny arms, talking to herself in the same ways I do, and I remember everyone quoting that once my child was born I'd somehow cease to remember what life was like before she was here.
But I do.
I remember everything, from the ability and freedom to go anywhere at anytime without a second thought and a car seat, to the sadness and longing of the missing piece of the puzzle in our lives that only she could fill.
I remember it, but I wouldn't go back to it for the world.
We are learning, adjusting, and surviving. Taking each day at a time, and trying desperately to pull the to do list out less and the camera out more. Replacing date night with bath time, and exchanging purses and heals for diaper bags and flats. Answering endless hungry wales with wide open arms because they used to be empty, and staring into the eyes of something so fresh from God she practically glows.
This is what I do, how I spend my time, and who I am.
This is my new life
"Along comes a baby girl and suddely my little world just got a whole lot bigger."
-Keith Urban, Without You Lyrics
-Keith Urban, Without You Lyrics