I'm emerging from the longest winter season of my entire existence, and sometimes I even hesitate to say that it's over. Maybe I'll just claim early spring? I have done so much growing, stretching, and reflecting since mid 2015 that I almost don't even recognize myself anymore. In a good way though. My world has been rocked in so many ways, my children, my house, j.rue's job, my body, and my inner angels & demons.
Of course bringing a baby into the world is one of the biggest changes. Adding Fitz to our family has been so beautiful and as far from pretty and perfect as they come. With Ellie, I felt all of the feels, but I was also transitioning from working in an office all the time to working at home all the time...and with a newborn that slept like an angel all the time. This time, I was plunged head first into life with a crazy almost 2-year-old and a newborn...with all of the feels. This time was different. My body didn't bounce back like I was hoping and neither did my hormones. To backtrack a little bit, I actually felt kind of like super mom for the first 3 months. Fitz slept all the time, Ellie had decided to hold off on her rebellion, I was healing like it was my job, and I kept up on the laundry.
Then, all of a sudden 3.5 months hit and Fitz stopped sleeping. Ellie stopped being excited about Fitz and instead tried pushing every one of my buttons. I stopped sleeping, cleaning, moving, and even leaving the house. I was paralyzed and I had no idea how to get out. It took everything I had to meet our family's basic needs and sadly, I used to rest of my energy to put up a decently strong front that everything was peaches. I confided in a few people, kind of, but really I couldn't even explain how I was feeling. I was sad, but not that sad. I kept writing it off as a serious lack of sleep, which was probably about 80% of it. The other 20% had to be post-partum, but I couldn't tell. And I don't know, maybe it's just hard to tell when you're in the thick of things. I started comparing myself to all of the moms I knew and I was a very tough critic. I was also physically in bad shape and often had headaches and stiff necks that would give me spotty vision and drained me of all of my patience. I was a mess, and not even a hot one. I've actually never understood (or had a strong appreciate for that term?) but it was not pretty.
As it started to get warmer outside I felt like I ever so slowly started to emerge from my winter fog. Very slowly. It really is truly amazing what the grass beneath your feet can do for your soul, though. It's interesting to look back. I knew that things were off, but I didn't realize that everything was off and to what magnitude. Now that I've finally come to, I'm faced with the reality of the poor habits that need to be thrown to the wayside and the good habits that I've been desperately needing in my life. Ugh, and it is going to be so much work to get myself where I want to be. I said early spring, remember?
However, my priorities are clearly defined. I have a direction and goals (so many goals). One of the few things I'm missing? SLEEP. My sweet little Fitz is still struggling with his sleep. I'm still physically drained by the end of the day, and those bad habits? They run deep. So, every day I wake up with the highest of hopes and go to bed with most of those hopes being dashed by the tantrums, the food, the yelling, and the lack of self-discipline.
I want so many things. Do you know what I mean? I want to do so many things, but the energy just isn't there. With that being said, progress is being made. I learning to not yell again. I'm learning to stick to a regular exercise routine, and just routines in general. I'm still trying to figure out how to not eat all the food. I'm trying to be present with my sweet babies. I'm focusing on self care, because I deserve it. I'm spending time in the scriptures and reacquainting myself with my Heavenly Father. Good things are happening.
Learning to pace myself is hard, though. In my mind, it needs to be 100%, but that' not realistic, and that's ok (I tell myself that about 3928 times a day). I feel like I have been whittled down to my most raw self and these next few months are vital rebuilding months. I'm in awe of the things, people, and tools that have been placed in my path to help me. I've never been at this alone. I'm finally excited to do things my way instead of everyone else's way. I wish I could write the way that makes me feel, but I supposed to best way to describe it is free. I feel free and so excited for all of the possibilities that I have to make my life how I want it to be. How I will influence my children for the better. How I will lead my family. It's a delicious feeling. Life is so beautiful and I'm so thankful that I'm here, in my now. Does any of this even make sense? If not, it's okay. This mess will also be refined.
Writing is such a therapy for me. I could probably write for hours on end, but I'm also trying to get into the habit of going to bed earlier. Maybe writing will help curb my evening eating? I think good things are going to come from this. It feels good to be here. It's going to be a bright & beautiful summer.