{A New Year}

I don't put much faith in fate.  I don't believe in meant to be's or master plans.  However, I was clearly destined to be a teacher. 

I get the same kind of rush each August that most people only experience January first.  There is just something so refreshing and innocent about the start of Fall and the back to school banter that fills the air.  I love redecorating my classroom.  I fill my head with goals and high ideals I know I'll probably never achieve.  I am introduced to a hundred and twenty new faces that will fill my days.  Likely, those faces with be accompanied by quite a few new challenges too.  It's my New Year because its a time for renewal and fresh starts.  Also, by the time January rolls around, I'm half way to a 3 month vacation.  Furthermore, I find Fall heavenly. 

This year, however, it is going to be bittersweet.

Rowan will be starting daycare soon.  We avoided it last year but this year there was no choice.  I know daycare is wonderful.  Honestly, I worked in one for years and know all of the benefits.  Furthermore, my child needs boundaries and routine like the desert needs the rain.  Neither of which I am great at providing.  Also, I am not cut out to be a stay at home momma.  I admire those of you who do, but I couldn't.  I love my son too much to make him spend his days stuck with a mother who is secretly longing to be elsewhere.  I love my son, but right now, I want to experience other things in addition to that love.  I need to feel fulfilled outside my home, in my career, in myself.  I am a better mother for some time away.  He is a better child for the chance to be exposed to other fantastic people and playmates.

Still though, it makes me a wee bit sad. 

So, we are spending the next two weeks the only way I know how, doing the only thing I've ever done -- preparing to go back to school.  We are cherishing our last full days together.  I'm getting my school supplies and classroom ready.  Rowan is getting a new lovey and crayons.  We are getting new school clothes and shoes.  And, I am reminding myself that Rowan is getting to share in one of my favorite past times.

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{My First Mother's Day}

I woke up yesterday to slobbery kisses from my boy and amazing gifts from the hubs. Seriously, he gave me a gift for each role I play in life. Some teething bling for my momma life, a DS cooking game for my wife life, a teaching guide for my teacher life, and a novel for my me time. Beautiful. He gets me, appreciates me, and is more than I deserve. But I still couldn't wrap my head around the day being about me. After all, I wouldn't even be a mother to celebrate mother's day if it weren't for Rowan. So, I spent the whole day in absolute awe of him. I swear ever thing he did made me melt which isn't really any different than normal, but I noticed the melting. I am blessed.

Speaking of being blessed, I also had trouble focusing on me because I couldn't help but think of my own mother and how much I understand her now. It's almost uncomfortable how much I get it. Understanding a mother's love first hand is honestly the only possible way to understand it. Nothing else allows you to comprehend that depth and breadth. Knowing that someone else feels that way is almost too intimate, too personal, but alters your relationship to them forever. I know my mother's love and dedication now because I know my own. I cry when my child cries. I feel my heart burst when he laughs. I consider him with every decision I make and he never, never leaves my thoughts. At this point, I feel his emotions more intensely than he does. I love him in a way the word love doesn't do justice.

Thank you mom for loving me as only a mother can.

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{Insomnia}

No, not me.  I have never had a problem sleeping.  I have been known to sleep until three in the afternoon only to wake up for dinner and head back to bed.  Don't judge.  Try it.  It is a bit of heaven wrapped up in total guilty pleasure.  Those days are long gone now though.  Apparently, they are now joined in the abyss of lost socks by my darling son's ability to sleep for more than an hour.  Read: I no longer sleep due to banshee screams.  I thought the newborn stage was supposed to be the worst.  Which brings me to the most important part of this post, I know I look tired.  Don't tell me.  If you must just say what you really mean because I'm way to tired to smile and nod at your "Damn, you look like shit!" coded fake interest.

In other OMG worthy news...my babe turns 6 months old tomorrow.  What the eff?  How did that happen.  More to come on my feelings on this tomorrow.  However, how sad is it that one of my first thoughts about his half b-day is "really, it's been six months and my abs still look like this". 

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