I took these photos two weeks ago. Presley was exactly eight weeks old, and that morning I marveled at how big she was and how quickly she had grown. After feeding the cats, I climbed back into bed and laid there staring at her. (She went back down for a little cat nap a few hours later which is when I had the chance take the photos.)
Being back at work full-time and getting up at night with her has sucked my energy tank nearly dry, so it's easy to get caught up the day-to-day: wake up, work, home, sleep, up with Presley, sleep, up with Presley, sleep, wake up again, etc. Lather, rinse, repeat.
When I become so focused on work deadlines and making sure I time my pump sessions just right and how in the world I'll fit my post-baby body into pre-baby work clothes (because truly, the struggle is real, y'all), I miss all the milliseconds of her baby-ness that are so clearly whizzing by.
Between the blog and her baby books, I try to diligently record all the important milestones and the hum-drum moments that will one day be important memories. But with all the typing, writing and picture snapping (and there is a lot of picture snapping), I still need to remember to put it all to rest sometimes and just rely on my own memory to capture the beauty of being her mom.
Sure, the visual may be hazy decades from now, but I'll have a stronger emotional connection to the memory which will make the storytelling of it so much more meaningful.
Part of me knew from the beginning that this would happen -- that I would one day feel the burden of learning how to be a full-time working mom and realize that "full-time working" is just an adjective and that "mom" is the priority. This is probably why I kiss her every single time I pick her up in the middle of the night and in the morning. I want her to feel love, not my tired arms.
I've started setting my alarm 15 minutes earlier so that I know I'll have those minutes to soak in my morning view, uninterrupted. (Unless she wakes up and interrupts it, of course!)