Thursday, April 7, 2011


I sometimes feel like I've settled into motherhood. Not that I'm a pro, not that I'm good at it, just that I've settled into it.

In the beginning when we were measuring Tommy's out-of-womb life in hours and days I remember thinking "well, last night he slept for 2.5 hours at a I guess that's normal although it only happened's still 100% of the time...." and I couldn't possibly imagine a day in my life that I would have a clue what "usually" even meant. Heaven forbid we have a daily routine.

But earlier this week as I (for the 4th or 5th time) packed away the too-small clothes and got out the too-big clothes it felt routine.

I looked at the tiny shirts thinking "I can't believe this used to fit him" and I looked at the enormous pants thinking "his legs will never be this long." And then I remembered having said those exact words to myself about a million times before.

As I've started packing away my "skinny clothes" and started begging Josh to get my "fat clothes" from the attic I remember doing this once before.

I remember thinking "those pants used to fall down to my knees because they were so big" and mourning the body I had and never appreciated. I remember looking at a maternity shirt thinking "if my belly ever fills this thing I just don't see how I'll be able to stand." I even pulled an Anastasia and looked for the Russian circus which must surely still be in there.

I just think it's strange to do things which felt like SUCH a big deal the first few times and think nothing of them.

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