everyday i'll try

almost eight months into this motherhood gig and i feel like i'm finally catching my stride. that's not to say i have got it all together, no sir. but i no longer look around, bewildered, for the real mama to come rescue us.

every part of life has its own rhythm, its own pulse, ebb and flow, and i can feel this one in my veins, matching the pumping of my heart, the beat of my life. every day is beautiful in its simplicity. we get up, we eat breakfast on the floor. we get dressed and take a nap {well, one of us naps}. we pick up the house, run the errands, read our favorite stories over and over. play patty cake and zoom zoom airplane. nibble some baby toes and nurse to sleep when all the nibbling has worn us out. we snuggle and make a mess and giggle and roll around on the floor and there are always a few meltdowns thrown in there somewhere. then its bath time, bed time, goodnight. the hardest part of bed time is the realization that hits me every time i look down at his sweet, sleeping face- that the angel in my arms is growing up faster than i can memorize every little detail of his sweet round face, big brown eyes and fuzzy hair.

after all the lights are off and i lay in bed, the guilt of the day washes over me. i didn't play enough. we didn't read enough. i was on my phone too much. i let myself get frustrated. i didn't show him something amazing. i am forgetting too many of the best moments, the best things about my baby boy.

i don't know what it is about motherhood that makes it so easy to feel so guilty. maybe its that i am imperfect and he is perfect and i can feel in my soul the weight of this responsibility.

being his mother- the keeper and teacher of this perfect little spirit- is the highest standard i'll ever be held to and i know that i don't, and i won't, always measure up. but i promise everyday i'll try.

everyday i'll try.