A year ago I was just starting to recover from that first year of Jude, a time I refer to as "The Black Hole 2007." Now I find myself starting to think about having another baby, and what it would be like to start all over again. I'm a) scared out of my mind and b) so in love with the idea of having a daughter, that the idea of getting pregnant again just fights itself out in my head almost daily. I'm convinced that even if my next baby is somehow a direct descendant of Satan himself, it could not be harder than the first time around. Only because I know how hard it is and the shock of how massively upsetting a newborn can be to one's whole character could not destroy me again. Anyway. Back to the happy.
Now, almost 2 years later, I am purely content and delighted with my "new" life as a mother. It really changed for me when Jude started to talk, and dance, and give random kisses. It made a world of difference~ he went from being a motionless blob of need to a sweet little funny-man. And those days I always longed for, those movie montage moments where everything is in slow motion... feathers flying from a pillow fight, little legs running through sprinklers, picking a bunch of wildflowers on a nature walk... this is finally how my life feels, at this moment. In every hour there is some random precious occurrence that makes me want to sing. (And heck yes, there are still meltdowns about some tiny thing that interrupts my bliss and makes me momentarily swear off another child altogether, but for once that's not what I'm writing about.) That life I have always worked toward and dreamed of is finally here. I have it. And I can honestly say that I've never been happier.
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