1. You know how people say kids change you? Everything changes. I totally agreed the time I got pregnant my first month into college. Everything changed. So that sentiment was lost during my second pregnancy. Baby girl was planned, financially accounted for. I wasn’t about to embark on four years of school, and certainly not residing in a so-so apartment, living below minimum wage.  I was married, in a nice home with a decent job and on speaking terms with all immediate relatives. Totally different this time. Guess what? This kid changed me. In ways Jolie never came close to achieving. I should have seen the signs. My pregnancy with Lucia was difficult. I ached constantly. And her first hour on earth, as her own being, she screamed. And screamed. And screamed. I can’t really recall when that stopped. Or at least decreased to a few times a day as opposed to every hour. She still prefers I hold her. I promised I would never be a mom to give in. Well, I did. I began wearing my sling, plopping her inside and continuing to make dinner, or clean a room, in an attempt to soothe her. It worked. The kid can’t get enough of me.  Because she is so dependent on me, and even Brett, we rarely went out her first year. Dates are necessary—we grew apart due to work and new baby and I never want that to happen again. Ever. It’s terrible. Between baby Lucia and Jolie, it has been nearly impossible to focus on US. You know, the folks who established this little family. Days are long, and come 9:00 pm, when we sit down for the first time, we’re exhausted. I hated how this affected us. Jolie was a huge help, and still is. But she has her own issues as she becomes more independent. I’m not sure where I’m going with all of this. I certainly love my children, and I’m not apologizing for my feelings. This year sucked, and there were contributing factors outside of Lucia—granted,I was able to manipulate the others. We didn’t have sex nearly as much as I love, and I can count on one hand how many naps I’ve taken, and even less than one hand how many times I’ve been alone (not including my work commute). I was a cow. I loved nursing my daughter, but my breasts were not the same, and certainly aren’t now. This is hard for me. I struggle, because on one hand I am so thankful for the opportunity to nurse Lucia, and proud that I did so for over a year(while working full-time and co-charing a very demanding committee), but on the other hand, a part of my body was no longer mine.  Weaning Lucia was also rough. I found myself closet nursing when no one was around. Otherwise, the poor girl would following me around moaning. I caved.  Baby number 2 taught me a lot. Mostly that I cannot control everything. This is a hard lesson for me. I’m stubborn. I’m hardworking. I’m passionate. (Whispers- I also have a hard time not trying to juggle multiple things, and when parts of my life suffer, I go into complete “I am the biggest failure alive” mode). So many times I would find myself mentally listing all of my blessings. I had to. At times, this worked. Other times, the elephant on my chest would just reposition its self. But then Lucia’s first birthday came, and it was like a balloon popped, and all the anxiety and chaos I accumulated in the past 12 months dissipated. Gone. Lucia smiled so much during her party. She was happy. Everyone was happy. I was happy. The storm had settled. It was as if we crossed over an invisible line of time. Lucia Simone is unapologetically sassy and determined, and as much as these traits wear me out, I love them, too. Her curiosity for life is incredible. I love watching her explore, and how her eyes connect with mine on a level far beyond her age. She gets me. Every year I enjoy looking back and feeling completely amazed and surprised by what took place; this year so much happened. I’m still very much growing as a young professional, a mother of two and a wife. I’ve never felt so helpless as I have this year, and considering some chapters of my life, that’s saying something. I am excited for Lucia’s second year, and other big changes taking place in my life. “They” say the last mile is the hardest. This year I lived that mile…and I’m still breathing. 

    You know how people say kids change you? Everything changes. I totally agreed the time I got pregnant my first month into college. Everything changed. So that sentiment was lost during my second pregnancy. Baby girl was planned, financially accounted for. I wasn’t about to embark on four years of school, and certainly not residing in a so-so apartment, living below minimum wage.  I was married, in a nice home with a decent job and on speaking terms with all immediate relatives. Totally different this time. Guess what? This kid changed me. In ways Jolie never came close to achieving.

    I should have seen the signs. My pregnancy with Lucia was difficult. I ached constantly. And her first hour on earth, as her own being, she screamed. And screamed. And screamed. I can’t really recall when that stopped. Or at least decreased to a few times a day as opposed to every hour. She still prefers I hold her. I promised I would never be a mom to give in. Well, I did. I began wearing my sling, plopping her inside and continuing to make dinner, or clean a room, in an attempt to soothe her. It worked. The kid can’t get enough of me. 

    Because she is so dependent on me, and even Brett, we rarely went out her first year. Dates are necessary—we grew apart due to work and new baby and I never want that to happen again. Ever. It’s terrible. Between baby Lucia and Jolie, it has been nearly impossible to focus on US. You know, the folks who established this little family. Days are long, and come 9:00 pm, when we sit down for the first time, we’re exhausted. I hated how this affected us. Jolie was a huge help, and still is. But she has her own issues as she becomes more independent.

    I’m not sure where I’m going with all of this. I certainly love my children, and I’m not apologizing for my feelings. This year sucked, and there were contributing factors outside of Lucia—granted,I was able to manipulate the others. We didn’t have sex nearly as much as I love, and I can count on one hand how many naps I’ve taken, and even less than one hand how many times I’ve been alone (not including my work commute). I was a cow. I loved nursing my daughter, but my breasts were not the same, and certainly aren’t now. This is hard for me. I struggle, because on one hand I am so thankful for the opportunity to nurse Lucia, and proud that I did so for over a year(while working full-time and co-charing a very demanding committee), but on the other hand, a part of my body was no longer mine.  Weaning Lucia was also rough. I found myself closet nursing when no one was around. Otherwise, the poor girl would following me around moaning. I caved. 

    Baby number 2 taught me a lot. Mostly that I cannot control everything. This is a hard lesson for me. I’m stubborn. I’m hardworking. I’m passionate. (Whispers- I also have a hard time not trying to juggle multiple things, and when parts of my life suffer, I go into complete “I am the biggest failure alive” mode). So many times I would find myself mentally listing all of my blessings. I had to. At times, this worked. Other times, the elephant on my chest would just reposition its self. But then Lucia’s first birthday came, and it was like a balloon popped, and all the anxiety and chaos I accumulated in the past 12 months dissipated. Gone. Lucia smiled so much during her party. She was happy. Everyone was happy. I was happy. The storm had settled. It was as if we crossed over an invisible line of time.

    Lucia Simone is unapologetically sassy and determined, and as much as these traits wear me out, I love them, too. Her curiosity for life is incredible. I love watching her explore, and how her eyes connect with mine on a level far beyond her age. She gets me.

    Every year I enjoy looking back and feeling completely amazed and surprised by what took place; this year so much happened. I’m still very much growing as a young professional, a mother of two and a wife. I’ve never felt so helpless as I have this year, and considering some chapters of my life, that’s saying something. I am excited for Lucia’s second year, and other big changes taking place in my life. “They” say the last mile is the hardest. This year I lived that mile…and I’m still breathing. 

Notes

About me

{instances from married life, child rearing
and old-home renovations}