There are so many things I should be doing right now.
She was just sleeping soundly but was woken up by the little cough she has. She needed to be calmed so I sat with her and nursed her and got her settled. She’s done eating and she’s back to sleep—but I’m still sitting here. Still holding her. Still in this moment.
But there are so many things I should be doing. If I wrote everything out, my list might *actually* be a mile long.
As I sit here with my baby in the rocking chair in my room, I’m looking around at the mess.
But, instead, I’m looking at the little curls of my daughter’s hair.
I should get up and sit back at my desk to answer some emails and finish inputting the data on the spreadsheet I was working on.
But, instead, I’m watching my daughter’s pursed lips look like they’re still sucking on something even though she’s done eating for the moment.
I should get up and throw a load of laundry on or clean up the toys in the living room.
But, instead, I’m relishing in feeling the weight of my baby on my chest. She doesn’t do this much anymore. It is simply the BEST.
I should get up and go through the clothes that don’t fit my kids anymore and reorganize their closet.
I should get up and see what’s available in the fridge or freezer and figure out what we’re going to have for dinner.
But, instead, I’m holding my daughter’s tiny hand, feeling her soft skin against mine, staring at the beautiful rolls in her arms.
But, instead, I’m sitting here knowing this time goes by way too fast. And this is probably the last newborn of mine I’ll cuddle with like this.
I should get up and clean out my diaper bag or unload the dishwasher or declutter or match up socks or scrub the floor or make another to-do list.
But, instead, I’m watching my daughter’s chest rise and fall. I’m feeling pretty honored to be this girl’s mom. And I’m trying—oh, how I’m trying!—to burn this memory into my psyche so I never really have to let it go.
There are millions of things every single day that I “should” be doing or “could” be doing. Productive things. Efficient things. Responsible things. I’m an adult now, that’s how it works, right?
My oldest is growing taller every single day. Seriously—her new hobby is growing out of pants because she’s getting so tall.
My youngest is officially four months next week. We’re out of the fourth trimester. The newborn fog is slowly clearing and she’s continuously getting stronger and more alert. I think I am, too.
Life is happening all around us, isn’t it?
So I’ve decided to sort of tone down those “shoulds” and “coulds” a bit. Sure—I do need to actually do the stuff I need to do at some point. I have a job and a house and people to care for. I am down with that.
But time is fleeting. This wild life of raising three little children will one day be my wild life of raising teenagers (faster than I can even imagine, I’m sure).
Whoever said one of our “shoulds” of motherhood couldn’t be that we should sit down and smell our newborn baby’s head and think about how wonderful life is now that she’s here and just…be?
There are no ‘rules’ to motherhood—let’s just create our own, shall we?