Life in the Superlative

After the past 3 entries, this is not a post that contains grossness.

Willa is eight months old. I feel that eight months ago someone hit some switch that sped up life. Everything moves faster now - I do, Jim does, the dogs zip away when they've had enough of Willa trying to pull herself to a standing position using their fur, their backs their ears... fast. She's growing up sooo fast.

That's okay, because since her birth everything has been intensified, for good and bad. Cold feels colder when worrying about little hands outside. Hard is harder when you hear a baby's head hit the floor after another failed attempt to climb whatever is not the floor. Poop (okay, a little grossness here), teeth, and laughter are all more important and exciting. When Willa turns and smiles at me, I feel like the sun shines for me, and choirs and orchestras play the Hallelujah Chorus for me, for us. A baby is good for the ego - when baby is content. Worry is more, and happy is more, peace is more, and gratitude and tired is way, way, way more. Christmas is more. Appreciation for my own parents and family are more. Partnership and team are more (Jim and husband and dad are more, more). Stress is more. Most importantly, joy. Joy is coming out of me like lava out of a volcano. Not the streaming lazy way - but the explosive, straight up in the air with power and substance and roar kind of joy.

We're all working on something. I think I need to let the bad mores fade behind the joy lava rush and good mores.

I wrote the above on the 5th, and am getting back to post it today, the 6th. Jim and I went to a fundraiser for the childrens' hospital in town last night. It was moving, and sad and joyful, and reminded me over and over that we are very fortunate to have a child who is healthy and happy. I need to stop feeling sorry for myself for sleepless nights. We hope to never visit the hospital. Leaving the event, I couldn't wait to pick Willa up at her grandma and grandpa's and hug her tight and smell her hair.

I think that I am more because of her. Thank you, Willa bird.