My sweet number three isn't going to have his birth story shared with the masses unless I start typing again, and since writing a birth story has been the only real tradition I've kept with the other two...here I am, blogging away!
David is going to be seven weeks tomorrow. I wouldn't dare jinx things by sharing how many hours he's sleeping at night, but--THE LORD KNOWS. And I'm so deeply grateful. I have no qualms at this point with keeping my babes in bed with me, but David sleeping in his own swing at the foot of my bed saves me many, many neck cricks and backaches in the morning. AND I'M GRATEFUL.
Target should just go ahead and put the workout DVD section right next to all the cute clothes. Last week on a whim, I bought a Tracy Anderson video and came home excited about looking like dear Gwyneth by the middle of next month. But then I read an Amazon review about how somebody's pelvic floor prolasped after starting the DVD at 6 weeks postpartum, and how her physical therapist told her those videos are really inappropriate for postpartum women, and I got scared. I visited a chiropractor twice during pregnancy (I would have visited more, but--$40 copay!!) because my pubic bone (bones?) started popping, and she thought my pelvis was probably detaching and becoming misaligned. I'm thinking I should wait to start exercising till I visit her again and talk about that, but...$40! That's dinner at a delicious restaurant for all five of us that I didn't have to plan for, shop for, prepare, or clean up after. So. In the meantime, I thank God for Jennifer Garner and Maria the Housekeeper.
In addition to nursing every few hours and googling things like "replens" and "tracy anderson" and "pubic symphysis diastasis," I'm also doing social media for Lily Jade, which means finding creative ways to cram 15-20 hours of work into an already full day. I know, that's crazy. Crazy oughta be locked up kind of crazy, but it's literally the grace of God, my husband's light (for now) work schedule, a gem of an employer, and...a lot of lowered expectations. That phrase used to make me bristle, but I get it now. It's been three days since the kids have bathed? Don't care, and I'm not even going to promise myself I'll "try harder." The kitchen? I already told my husband to just get used to it being upside down all the time. TV? Oh, we watch it. We watch the pants off that TV.
And Rodan + Fields! God bless Rodan + Fields. I aspire each week to spend hours and hours "working it" and usually only ever spend less than a handful each week, but God is gracious and my commission checks are really growing, in spite of my meager efforts. My R+F friend (who, I found out, is related to a friend I went to school with!) just earned her Lexus (the Lexus is to Rodan + Fields what the Cadillac is to Mary Kay), and my goal is to have mine by the time L starts Kindergarten. I just wish they made Suburban-sized Lexus'....
I am nowhere close to finding a new rhythm again, with babies + work + the other work, but somehow what gets done gets done, and what doesn't get done...just doesn't get done. One day I'll potty train my almost preschooler and start reading him books regularly, and one day I'll stop eating sugar like its my job. Maybe. In the meantime, a few things that are keeping my heart healthy are this verse (it's one of those verses that's never made logical sense to me, but when I speak it over myself and my life, it changes things), choosing to see chaos as joy, copious amounts of these breakfast cookies first shared with me by Lindsey, this beautiful interview with Rachel Jankovich, and Jesus. So much Jesus.