Note: written on a sticky note at 10:10 p.m. on Wednesday, August 10 – our server was down and I couldn’t get online.
Today was not a perfect day. Just as one example: one of the times I was woken last night to feed my girl I saw in my sleep-dazed state that her head was down around my thighs, her feet by the pillows, and her diaper had slid down her body and fixed itself around her neck (no doubt the result of her new talent for undoing her diapers). I panicked. Then I realized that in fact her head and feet were in the right position and that was her diaper securely fastened on her bum.
What else? Well, not much else. I was at a neat training but was away from my girl a lot more than I wanted. She didn’t nurse much during the day but then she did this evening. It took a long time to put her to sleep but she is so sweet and soft and wonderful that it was fine. Our internet isn’t working but that removes the temptation to stay up reading online. My don’t like parking in the street because I don’t have a secure spot and my car gets one of hot, sticky or wet (it poured tonight! and I didn’t close my sunroof) but I have a car and I can park and it’s rarely a big problem.
I realized that my days right now are like this: perfectly fine with some annoying or unpleasant bits but nothing unbearable. There are things I dream of in my future – a covered (indoor and heated!) parking spot – and I will no doubt enjoy them but my days will still be my days. I still will have more work than time; I will still wish that I would be more and more present and interactive with my daughter; there will still be household chores to do and re-do and do again. And if I want to have the kind of light-filled life I want, I will have to love each of those days, and these days, as perfect days. Because I’m here, with loved ones, doing neat things.