So there I was…sitting on the deck again with my book.
Again it was a perfect day. Partly sunny. mid to upper 70’s. slight breeze.
I put my head back and felt how comfy it was in my chair, breathed in deep, and went back to my book.
But then I looked up again and was slapped in the face with the reality of just how different this summer has been from last summer.
My brain quickly whirled back to last August. I had an almost two-month old. Two months since the C-section. Two months of having a baby. Two months.
It seemed like enough time. It seemed like things should be under control. It seemed like this little floppy being should NOT be crying more than he was NOT crying.
But it wasn’t. And looking back? How did I ever think TWO months was long enough? sigh. rookie mistake.
But rookie or not, I was deeply depressed last August, I just didn’t know it (or maybe I did).
By this time last year the Husband was back to work and I was home alone with a colicky screaming baby. I could see the summer days out our big front window, but I was not participating. I was in the house trying to get the screaming baby to scream quieter.
I would get on my computer during the brief spells of nap and see all the fun things people on facebook were doing and that I was NOT doing.
I cried a lot. Then.
I cried for the long summers of relaxation and me time.
I cried for the quiet that was gone.
I cried for the fun, outgoing me that was trapped in a house.
I cried. A lot.
But this summer? Totally different.
This summer we have gone out. We have done things. The beach, the zoo, the children’s museum, walks, playdates, the pool, the list goes on and on.
He sleeps regularly now. This gives me a minimum of two hours of “me time” a day.
Things get done. My house gets cleaned (ok, this still doesn’t happen regularly, but who cares. I have learned to let that go. Sort of).
Books get read. Last year I didn’t go to the beach even once and I only read one book.
This year? I lost count of how many times we’ve been to the beach AND how many books I’ve read.
And just as I am thinking happy thoughts, I look over.
And there he is. peering at me through the glass sliding door.
When he realizes I see him, a HUGE smile breaks out over his face and he waves and bangs on the glass.
Things are different.