Aster is One. A big milestone. For her. For me. For all of us. Constant change and growth and evolution. I am repeatedly humbled by the process of raising children while simultaneously trying to raise myself. To keep learning about life and how I can do it better. What do I want to model for my children? Patience, love, kindness, calm, ease, joy, freedom, self-love. A life of service and faith. Of commitment, honesty and purpose. Of Fun. All the things I’m (still) trying to manage in my daily choices and life.

I’m feeling all kinds of momma emotions right now. Aster is teething. Her bottom two teeth were the first to arrive. Now her top two front teeth are coming in and she’s feeling it. A bit cranky. Uncomfortable. Confused. She’s not feverish or ear achey and she is thank you God napping and night sleeping like a dream. But, she’s biting. She’s biting everything she can jam into her mouth. Mostly my boobs.

I just got home from dropping Sienna off at school. Kindergarten, Day 1. It is surreal to have her somewhere else besides next to me. The past 6 months our family unit has functioned as One. Together. Connected. Feels sort of like a limb is missing. But oh yes we needed this moment. She needs it. I most definitely need it. I cried at drop off. Sienna threw on her backpack, gave me hugs + kisses + I love you’s and hopped out of the car. Pink puppy mask and all. There she went. Off I drove. Alone in the car. So f*ing strange.

Sienna went to karate camp last week. And she is going again this week. Every morning from 8am-ish until noon. Obviously after 70+ days of The Stay Home this was a very, very big deal. I lost sleep over this decision. Piper and I talked about it (a lot). I changed my mind (a lot). But it was a calculated risk we were willing to take. For our family, it was the right decision. At least I hope it was.

I felt suffocated today. Contained. Claustrophobic. Zero personal space. Everywhere I turned was a kid. Connected to me, hanging on me, eating from me, crying to me, loving me, needing me. And then there's a husband. A pile of laundry. A beeping dishwasher shouts I’m clean but I have no time to empty it. Projects in various states of undone. A mess that needs cleaned up.  Baby toys.  Toddler toys.  Packages on the front porch that still needed opened, sterilized, cleaned, put away. 

It’s a good thing. Being absolutely terrified. It means some of the best parts of your life are right there on the other side, a moment away. Without exception it is the pit in my stomach, trust-your-gut sensation that tells me everything I need to know. It tells me Yes - do that thing. That impossible thing you should not/cannot do for a million different reasons. Yes. That one.

I’m sleeping more at night. Obviously making a huge difference. I don’t feel like I’m bracing myself at every turn. My eyes don’t burn. I’m brushing my teeth, washing my face and applying my nightime skincare routine. I’m showering and putting on lotion. I even shaved my legs yesterday. I am feeling more human. Starting to do the things I previously did as habit, as non-negotiables. Until they became negotiable. When newbornland and toddlerhood and motherhood and wifedom and the holidays and a new decade all collided into each other at once.