It's the last day of a year that surprised me in many ways. I wasn't really expecting such an evolution in my own character, nor was I expecting that positive pregnancy test on March 2, 2010. So I guess it goes without saying that when we rang in 2010, I sure as hell wasn't expecting us to have a second baby by the time the year closed out.
Life is odd.
Back in February, I picked the word complete as my focal point for the year. It was a good choice, even though I didn't finish up my thesis like I intended, and I am still working on seeing myself as a whole person. But something else happened instead.
I had a baby. My second child, a perfect baby boy. My Simon. And yesterday afternoon Roy came home from work early, and we were all in Charlie's room. I was nursing Simon in the glider while Roy and Charlie wrestled and played on the ground, and The Beatles' Revolver album was playing. Just minutes before, I turned on "Be Mine", the song that played on repeat for hours while I was in labor with Simon, and I picked up the little guy and we did the ol' hold and sway. Roy held Charlie and they swayed next to us and my eyes prickled with tears. It was just another dark afternoon in late December but it was also perfect. It was epic in its everydayness. I've been thinking of my defining moments in 2010, and that was one of them. Just being with my family, the family that my husband and I built together. It's not often that I feel complete, but in that moment, I did.
That is what life is like, or mine at least. It's these little, seemingly insignificant moments that I often come back to. Sure, it's the big stuff, too - I will never forget hearing Simon cry for the first time - but it's Charlie's belly laughs, Roy's arms around me in bed at night, the little sounds Simon makes when he's nursing, waking up in the middle of the night to find one of the cats snuggled in bed with us; these are the things that I treasure the most. I wish that I could stop time, bottle the smell of Simon's head, record every single adorable thing Charlie says, but I can't. I can only be there, body, mind, and spirit, and take my mental picture. I want it all to last so badly. But the second the camera in my mind goes "click," it's gone. The moment is gone, and all that's left is a memory.
You've heard all this before. All this sappy stuff about enjoying every moment, never taking anything for granted because you never know what tomorrow will bring, blah blah blah. It's hard not to resort to sentimental cliches when it comes to those I love so dearly because, to put another cliched spin on it, words often fail me. I'm not original or special, really; I'm just a girl who spent years waiting for exactly what it is I have now, and I could not be more grateful. Things are not perfect, not even close. As a matter of fact, there is so much that I would change if I had the chance. But at the same time, so little.
There's more to say, there are always more words, but this time, I'm going to just shut it and wish everyone a happy and safe New Year. Thanks, as always, for continuing to visit me in this space.