Worry wart.

As I get used to this new journey and all that comes along with motherhood, I find myself suffering from sporadic moments of anxiety. Here's a few examples just from today:

1. This morning I rolled over in bed after a post-feeding snooze and expected to see Claire lounging next to me but all I saw was pillows...oh my gosh, did I accidentally smother her with pillows?

 2. Browsing the bedding aisle at Target with my cousin Michelle, I looked down in my cart and saw an empty car seat...oh my gosh, where's my baby? 

Of course, both situations turned out to be nothing more than a temporary moment of anxiety due to forgetfulness. I forgot that I had placed Claire in her bassinet after her feeding. I forgot that Michelle had taken her out of her carseat to hold her. But, the panic was real enough to get my attention. In fact, now that I think about it, these things happen all the time. I catch a glimpse of the clock...oh my gosh, when did she eat last? I wake up past her typical 4am wake-up call...oh my gosh, do you think she's still breathing? I change a pee-only diaper...oh my gosh, when did she poop last? I hear her cry during my shower...oh my gosh, do you think The Monst is sitting on her? I realize that she's making her hungry cry only one hour after she last ate...oh my gosh, am I not producing enough and starving my child? I occasionally supplement her with formula...oh my gosh, am I a bad mama for not pumping enough breastmilk for this feeding? I wipe the spit-up away from her mouth and clothes...oh my gosh, is that a normal amount or is she sick? She starts crying when she's in her swing...oh my gosh, is she being held enough? Sometimes I even get this overwhelming feeling when I'm away from Claire that I need to get to her as soon as possible (even though she's being well taken care of by her papa). I realize that this anxiety and worrying is normal - just look at any mother no matter how old her child is. She worries, worries about everything! It's probably even a good thing that I have this overwhelming sense of worry as it means I'm thinking of my girl's well-being over everything else. Must be instinct creeping up again. So, I suppose I should just buckle up and get ready for the ride as I have officially been initiated into the Worrying-Mother Club for the remainder of my days. Where's my badge? :)

She's a beauty, this one.

I would apologize for the lack of posts written and photos posted but I've been busy falling in love with my baby. And who wouldn't? Why stare at a computer screen when you can stare at this beauty all day?

Look at that round head. Pure perfection right there.

The smile, the dimples. Gets me every time!

Can never get enough of those yawns.

Things are a'changing around here!

Sometimes, when the house in quiet, Kevin and I fall back into the groove of newlywed-living. We watch tv, we snuggle on the couch, we munch on late night snacks, we forget about responsibility. Then, like a little mouse making her entrance, the baby makes a peep and we're jolted back into reality and we look at each other like...."Oh yeah, we have a baby."


Then life resumes as normal. Or, let's just say, as our new version of normal. And, to be quite honest, we wouldn't have it any other way:

I will not settle.

I've been thinking about it for days. Weeks, even. The dreaded new year's question...what are your new year's resolutions? Instead of a list to work out more or eat healthier or to save more money as is typical with new year's resolutions, I've decided to jump on the word-of-the-year bandwagon. Instead of a list that will get crumpled, lost or (let's face it and be honest with ourselves) tossed, it's a choice you make to better yourself in a more fluid way. It has a meaning that you connect with but, in the end, it's just a word. I think this allows you to let the year and all that life throws at you take you anywhere it needs to go. Sure, you can just vow to not eat fast food for a year or not to miss one day sweating it out at the gym, but we're all guilty of starting out gung-ho with resolutions then slacking off little by little as the reality of the day to day life sinks in. So, this year, I'm trying something new. For 2012, my word is: SETTLE.

I entered this year in a state of unsettled anxiety, unsure about how my life has and is going to change and who I will become. So, as I write this, I know I need to figure things out for myself. I need to learn to settle into my new roles as a mother, a wife, an aunt, a sister, a daughter and a woman. I realize that with the birth of Claire nothing really changed on paper with the exception of adding "mother" to the list but, in a sense, it all changed. I was already a wife, and we have a daughter to consider, but we still need to make our marriage a priority. My role as an aunt has changed as I will need to learn to spread my time out between the needs of my young daughter and the needs of my nieces and nephews. It is my priority to continue to pursue an active role in their lives. As a sister and a daughter, I need to settle my nerves about being honest with my family when I need help and honest with myself when I just have too much on my plate. And as an individual, I need to learn when enough is enough, when I'm pushing myself too hard, when I am setting unrealistic expectations of myself (and others) and when I feel like I am getting lost in the mix of it all.

Basically, I need to learn how to settle into my new roles, become comfortable with how those roles have changed and being conscientious about not losing sight of who I am as a person. Whew, I'm exhausted already and it's not even February! May be a long year ;) But, what I've learned about long years is that you always come out of them better than where you started. I hope to come out of this year, settled in my own skin.

Happy Birthday, Kevin!

To the love of my life on his 27th birthday:

You are my best friend.
I value your kindness and your gentle spirit.
I couldn't get by without your love, your hugs, your encouragement...
And, your to-die-for-fabulous garlic mashed potatoes.
You are the husband and father my friends are jealous of.
That makes me the lucky one.

I cherish the photo above as it tells our story.
Sure, there are 3 in the photo but it all started with us.
Let's never lose sight of that, ok?
Like I said, you are my best friend.
Happy Birthday!

Here's to the next year full of
diapers
baby food
and
love.

Oh Claire, you got me.

The deep blue of her eyes, the tiniest birth mark on the tip of her button nose, the curve of her lips, the adorable way her little chin sinks in when she's drifting into a deep sleep, those dimples piercing either sides of her chubby cheeks. Oh, the dimples!

I drink it all in, the way the corners of her mouth break and form perfect smiles that make flash appearances while she slumbers. I'm intoxicated by the sweet, warm smell of her skin and, for the life of me, I cannot keep myself from kissing that sweaty little neck whenever she stretches. Every little grunt, sneeze and whimper does not go unnoticed. Oh, and watch out for those baby coughs - swoon! How can a cough be cute? I don't know, but they can!

What an itty bitty pretty one, this girl is! She's got me wrapped around those perfectly-formed and beautifully long fingers of hers. And boy, she's got me good.

Can't do it without him.

I am the picture perfect image of every cliche new mother. I've let myself go. I'm emotional. I'm terrified of doing something wrong or being judged. I'm even more exhausted and barely holding it together. Everyday I am wearing scrubby clothes. It's a miracle if I even find time to run a comb through my hair. My feet are so rough, they practically create runs in the sheets and, despite the overabundance of deodorant I slather on after every once-in-a-while shower, I still find time to smell. I know, I know. You must be thinking Kevin is such a lucky man! But he loves me through it all. He loves me through the incessant, drop of the hat crying. He loves me through the sleepless nights and the even-longer mornings. He loves me through my over-analyzing and stressing about this, that or the other thing. He loves me through the recovery from surgery and the need for extra rest and pampering. He loves me through my need for extra reassurance that I am doing a great job. And, bless his heart, through it all he still finds the way to look at me the same way he did when he proposed. The same way he looked at me when I walked up that aisle towards him to say I do. A few extra cry fests and a stapled, stretch-marked stomach didn't deter him from making me feel like I am still the most important person in his life. Without those daily constant reminders, I'm not so sure I could get through this new phase called motherhood. Not only is he the baby-whisperer and a fabulous papa, he calms me down when I worry, he reminds me not to stress, he reminds me that we're a team, he takes away the pressures I feel and he loves me patiently, tenderly and unconditionally. He takes the baby when I'm clearly at my wits end. Essentially, and as corny as it may sound, he's the Katie-whisperer, too. Claire and I are the two luckiest gals. I hope, one day, Claire will find a man like her papa. He sure knows how to love me well.