some mornings don’t look like this. some mornings are put on pants + rush out the door + fight to make it on time kind of mornings. but my favorite will always be these. the quiet + slow home mornings when the first few hours are just me with my cup of decaf and the lady birds’ harmonious egg laying clucking as background noise. somewhere around the end of my first trimester with this little babe I started finding myself aching for solo moments. ones to just rest and wonder. feel her ever-growing kicks and dream about her. if i’m being honest, there are moments when i’m completely terrified about this second baby enter our world. but not for the crazy, how-will-i-make-it-to-the-grocery-store moments (although i’m sure those will come), for the fear of missing the quiet ones. with zoey, just me and her, we had all day, all of the days. to just sit. and stare at each other. learn about each other. memorize each others faces. i can remember jake coming home from work, looking around, and then finding us girls cuddled on the master bed, me with the semi-guilty “no, dinner is not made, laundry is still in the washing machine and yes, these are what i slept in last night, but looooook at our daughter!” face on.
i know this time won’t look like that. i know it will be busier and those quiet coos will be echoed by a sweet toddler head inching her way between us just to stare a little closer. don’t mishear me, those moments? the sister ones? sharing this new life with my 3 year old best friend? i. can’t. wait for it. for all the crazy moments and the cuddly ones, the learning ones and the scary ones. but this morning my heart is so convicted. or maybe the right word is inspired. to carve out the quiet ones for just me and this new little girl to get to know each other. and i think they happen right here. in the really early ones. when it’s just me, and the decaf and the chickens, and the fresh newborn smell on my shoulder, pulling back the curtains a little early for the nursing sessions with morning beams streaming in the windows, no one awake but us.
there are so many parts of life that threaten our rest, isn’t there? too many yeses. too many dishes. so many new photos to scroll and be inspired by to get up and change or create right now. i’ve spent the last few months stepping back a little to realize what eats up my rest. and not just the gilmore girl episodes during nap time with a bowl of honeydew rest, the stop washing/scrubbing/making/doing and go pick the flowers with the little girl carrying the basket around the backyard rest. the drink your decaf on the front porch with your favorite quilt and listen to the birds rest.
what i’ve found is that i’m stuck right here in the middle of wanting to be surrounded by and create an environment for my family that breeds peace and home. a place where the weight falls off and the spirits rise. and that doesn’t happen as easily for us when the kitchen smells like last nights garlic and we’re sorting through the piles looking for clean unmentionables. i love to wake up to a fresh kitchen and go to sleep in a made bed. i want to be encouraged by a friend sending a “in town near you, can we stop by for a hug?” text and not turn into a sweaty, frantic mess shoving out of place things into too full drawers. i feel like i’ve spent my whole life tidying up and never once have i felt truly tidy. not the kind of tidy that will impress you, although, that wouldn’t be the worst thing to ever happen, but the kind of tidy where things find their correct homes on a regular basis and after finishing a few daily chores i wonder what kinds of wonderful things could fill our day. is this sounding impossible? like i’m maybe this crazy person wishing for a cinderella-less life that doesn’t exist? this very well might be the moment when you stop reading and sarcastically say “call me when you’ve figured out the ‘secret to motherhood.'” and that’s okay, you fully have my permission. i might be crazy. but i’ve just kept feeling like i want to try. i know it will never be perfect and it will never stay picture pretty. but there has to be a better way!
enter: the life changing magic of tidying up. i kept coming across this title on blogs + in instagram posts and the OCD in me reaaaally wanted to try it but the logic in me kept saying it’s another quick fix gimmick, don’t waste your time. finally after reading elise joy’s review of it, i took the plunge. two days and a ton of stollen moments reading when i should have been parenting + participating, i finally set it down after turning the last page and took a giant breath. holy rock my world.
i’ll let you soak up elise’s review if you’re dying for more info, or maybe i’ll share a little more once i’ve completed the magic process, but let me just say. i feel like someone finally answered all the questions i’ve been searching for in the here and now of motherhood. bottom line: how do you do it all? have less. have less things, and you’ll have more time. and time feels like the elusive treasure that’s always slipping through my fingers. so here’s my goal. publicly. that before summer ends and this next new season of our life begins, there will be less. but it will be the right amount that brings us all the joy. and there will be more time for flower picking and coffee drinking. and friends will stop by without the bittersweet, sweaty undertones. and dishes will not steal my quiet, alone morning moments with baby girl numero dos. it’s a goal. a lofty one, but my heart needs it. good will, here i come.