Now We Are One
Today is the baby's first birthday.
It's bittersweet because we won't have a baby for much longer. Soon we'll have another walking, talking toddler.
His brother is jealous of any attention I give to the baby. The two of the fall on me like starving dogs on a scrap of meat.
Next week's schedule looks overly busy, and my husband will be stuck at home with the baby all week. We'll collide each evening, me tired from a day of meetings and him tired after a day of childcare, and we'll both resent each other for not doing more, for not having what the other has: time to nap with the baby, time to interact with other adults.
I know this is normal and temporary. I try not to rail against my limitations. This life is a choice I made. But my heart and my head crave so much more.
Desire, of course, is far from the worst thing. The worst is the opposite of desire, the apathy that creeps in on a cloud of depression. To be pulled in so many directions, to always be wanting more, is in itself a blessing.