— Kyle is so romantic.
1. We moved into our new house last week! While I love the new place (and finally getting out of apartment life), moving with a newborn is so incredibly stressful. It’s even more stressful when family comes out to help.
2. We live in a tiny North Georgia town not far from the start of the Appalachian Trail. It’s cute, but I can’t help feeling like Belle when I walk around it… “Little town, it’s a quiet village, every day like the one befooore…” There’s a Dunkin Donuts here, though, so I think I’ll be ok.
3. So why did we move here? Kyle took a position with the Ranger Training Battalion and he is *literally* working in the mountains. He gets something called “hazardous duty pay,” which he was very excited about. Me? Not so much.
4. Mini Mayfield had her one month check up with her new pediatrician this week and she is doing great! The doc warned me that she’s very strong for her age and not to be surprised if she starts rolling over early. She said we have a little athlete on our hands already. Obviously, Reese gets that from her dad.
5. My sister is coming to visit TODAY! Her visits always seem to come right after the most stressful times for me, so I like to think of it as my reward for getting through tough times without killing anybody. I have already purchased the necessities for her visit: champagne, s’more stuff, and an “I love my aunt” onesie for Reese.
Rainbow Rowell, Attachments
I’m actually reading this right now and just read this part this morning. I highlighted it and thought about it several times since then, so it seems *meant to be* that I see it on my dashboard now.
(And now the girl whose picture she used is Jack Osborne’s wife. I actually read her mommy blog.)
I am getting old.
"Sleep-deprived, desperate 3 am Katie" makes a lot of decisions that "rational, rest of the day Katie" neither approves of nor appreciates. Which is why my child now takes a pacifier and loves to sleep in our bed. Ugh.
I probably won’t tell you how much labor sucked for me. How I struggled for 40 hours straight and sobbed hysterically and begged your dad to just take me home and let you stay in my belly forever. How I couldn’t eat anything but ice chips for two days but somehow I still managed to throw up all over myself and your dad had to clean me up while I sat naked and shivering hooked up to IVs and a catheter and had never felt so humiliated. How I discovered new definitions of what pain and vulnerability meant for me.
And I won’t tell you how I wanted a natural labor so bad but after 36 hours of contractions that were a minute and a half apart without progressing I screamed out in relief when the doctor told me it was time for a c-section. How we both cried all night when you developed jaundice and had to spend the night under the bili light. How I was so scared to bring you home from the hospital and I checked to make sure you were breathing at least 100 times a day.
But I will tell you how hearing you cry the first time and seeing the nurse hold you up above the curtain was the greatest moment of my life. How it felt amazing to hold you and possibly even better to see your dad holding you. How every nurse and doctor and tech and even the housekeeping staff who saw you told me how beautiful you and all your wild dark hair were. How snuggly you were and how good you smelled. How we could tell from day one that you got my nose and your dad’s hands and a stubborn personality from the both of us. How even the dog was completely obsessed with you.
I will tell you how I loved you so fiercely and so immediately that I would have gone through all 38 weeks of pregnancy and all 40 hours of labor over and over again to bring you into our little family. How I finally understood what people meant when they said “it is so worth it.” You are so worth it.