I always knew I wanted children, and I always knew, academically, that it would be hard. Of course, knowing something will be hard and then actually going through said thing is very different. But the hardest thing? It's watching her get bigger every day. I swear every time I look at her she's just a bit taller, a bit more filled out, etc. Every day she's more and more active during her waking times. I can already tell she's going to be a handful when she starts crawling, walking. I can't picture her speaking yet, with her mouth. She talks to me every day, in squeaks and wails, happy or sad moans, distinctive leg kicking. Big toothless smiles. Out of breath belly laughs.
C. is less than 6 months, but we have set our routine. It starts when she wakes up, then two hours later (or less), it's nap time for two hours. She's up again for 2-3 more hours, then back down for another two hour nap. Bedtime starts at 6:30 and can really begin anywhere from 7-7:45, with wakings around midnight and then, depending on how she feels, there can be a couple more feedings in there.
Speaking of sleeping, we are all getting a lot more of it than we used to. We ended up having to do a gentle "fuss it out" because one night we were just so exhausted, it was getting really unsafe. After ten minutes, she was out. And she stayed out. And it's been like that pretty much every night since. To say it is lovely is an understatement, but sometimes (often...) I find myself missing our late night meetings (even though most of the time, they still happen).
Missing things. That is the hardest part. Taking pictures has dropped off, of course. I get so caught up in the routine, the morays of day to day life, that it isn't until she's asleep and peaceful that my brain turns on to remember to guilt me about forgetting to take pictures. Every day I say to myself, I will take more pictures tomorrow. I will make it a priority. I will take more pictures.
I have to remind myself that these are the easy times, the times when I can instantly cure any crying spell with a boob or an arm to pick her up, or a bounce on my knee. Someday things will get harder, so much harder and easier. It feels like that day is far away, but the reality is everything is going by at warp 9 and I'm the one who's standing still. That is, until I hold her tiny hand in mine and my hand looks so old and wrinkled and malformed compared to hers. I'm going at warp speed too, I just don't feel it.
Tomorrow I will take more pictures.