Two years ago today, I received the best birthday present to date: I was pregnant. I wouldn’t know it for a couple weeks, but as I sit here as a newly minted 36 year old, I couldn’t be happier.
Some birthdays were hard – the milestone ones after my father died, the one where I got snowed in, the one where I was alone – but this one feels just great. My fifteen month old brought me my present as I was standing in the kitchen, making her lunch for daycare. I can’t imagine anything cuter.
Life turned upside down over the summer, but I’ve finally embraced it and am – dare I say it – okay with it. I lost my job. Again. And I’m okay with it. I got to enjoy the summer with my daughter, celebrate her first birthday, and haven’t minded the near sleepless nights that come with teething and colds. It has been lonely, and challenging, and uplifting all at the same time.
I thought I would blog more once she was born, but there is something that made me want to keep those first months and moments private. I am still digesting all the emotions that come with being a mother instead of just wife and sometimes homemaker. It’s only the past month or so that I haven’t cried every night putting her to bed – tears of joy, tears of wonderment, tears of frustration and release.
Becoming a mother has been the ultimate life challenge and blessing, and for my birthday, a gift to myself is the time to be here again. To share what we’ve done in the house in the past year, to create beautiful things and a beautiful home, and to ask for advice when I decide to repaint a room or try a horrible Pinterest tutorial. So welcome back! I look forward to sharing this crazy life with you all again.