Time to reflect.
The back windows of the apartment let in mixtures of neighborhood traffic, dogs barking, children crying, and, presently, I sit with the loaming outside and the sounds of my own baby’s fussing rolling down the stairs. The prayer is that she’ll find herself to sleep on this day when she hasn’t been all too successful in keeping it deeply. It’s a new thing for this little one when she’s slept so well and been so chill. The horizon always changes with a newborn. And it comes with the reminder that now, with an emphasis more than ever, I have no control. If only I could make her sleep and keep her sleeping. It’s out of my hands.
The tail end of our communal iced latte is slowly growing more diluted at the bottom of the cup. And I find myself taking Indian-style on the couch wanting to mull over the larger scope of life. So much change. Danny, the hubs, just mentioned earlier how it will be five years this August since that fateful day we met at the end of a sidewalk and our hearts began intertwining. They’ve woven themselves down a crazy road to here: almost 14 months married, moved from home, made a baby. And now “home” is in Medford. For eight months now it’s slowly morphed into that status. When “home” has been elsewhere, particularly one place your whole life, it takes time for the word to truly relocate to the physical reality. But I think it’s finally made it, more or less. Though the reality is still a transition. Life has been one ongoing transition for the past two years! From high school and college graduation, to engaged, to married, to dot, dot dot. Packing in the new experiences to this blurb called life. At least the part of it that’s here, at least. It’s more just a blurb amidst the span of eternity that our reality is subject to
I ramble into deeper things. Guess that’s easy to do. And it’s meandered me into a different setting: Danny’s finished putting the bike away, which he had earlier been working on in the back alley, and now sits beside me, book in hand. I had to remind him of our communal latte still melting away on the coffee table. It’ll get drunk.
We the parents ending the day side-by-side on the couch. It’s a good tradition to be kept. Good conversation, needed reflection, discussion, fellowship and friendship, and the goodness of love growing all can so easily come out on the couch. Even our own private occupations done alongside each other still equates to quality time: he with his book, me with the laptop clickin away. I’ve seen how well we thrive in the grace abounding from evening couch time. God, thank You for our craigslist couch.
The babe’s been quiet for a while now. Bliss for us, and I pray for her. It’s amazing to see her grow. I don’t even feel like I now this baby girl, my daughter, nearly at all. I’m still coming to grips with the reality that she came from me; part Danny, part me, miracle of God. I love her little sweetness. And as I must study and get to know her cues for feeding, sleeping, gas, pooping, etc, it will all transition into finding out her personality, her marvels, her designed beauty. Crazy. This is a lot of life and a lot of new.
Guess bedtime should come sooner tonight. Who knows what this “new” fussy baby will be doing come wee hour feeding. Grace for that.
the work in progress 