In these days.

I'm not really faithful about blogging for several reasons. It seems that a blog should have a thesis (or maybe I'm too fresh out of graduate school!) But really, which corner of my life should I devote to writing about? Without picking some area, I'm certain this will always be incoherent rambling that would truly interest nobody in ever reading, and less - myself(!) in crafting a log of scatterbrained ramblings. But I just can't decide which little nugget of my life will be compelling enough to reflect on every day. Motherhood? Cooking! Teaching. Bits of philosophy and spirit. GLITTERRRRRR!!!! You gather my dilemma. I'm just right of schizophrenia enough to be able to laugh about it! So if I have grabbed a reader's eye, just know - the surprises here may likely be mundane, aaaand the topic of focus is quite likely to be inconsistent, at very least!

Finn is here. I wrote out a long, long, LONG story of him, in summary - from the verrrry beginning, from before he "began," through the pregnancy, to these precious, sweet early days of coming to love him so dearly. From wanting him in our world, and musing about him, to finding out we were pregnant on the day we set up for Christmas, with lights and piles of garland, in tears to realize ourselves as a family of four, through the long, nauseated pregnancy to our excitement at the hospital. And by "excitement," I'm referring to being turned away at the door for induction (no rooms ready), needing an adrenaline shot during labor, and experiencing my son's blood pressure dipping due to a cord around his neck, followed by vacuum suction to deliver him into the hands of NICU staff. All for the positively transcendent moment of beholding his scrunched-up, purple and white, grouchy looking little face for the very first time, so tearfully and so instantly in love. For his rough start, Finn has grown in just these four short weeks to show himself as remarkably mellow, incredibly tender and beautifully calm. Just as he was in the womb. We have had an indescribably sweet four weeks as a new family, with Tessa utterly smitten with her new "little guy," constantly commenting on how cute he is, always kissing and cuddling and loving on him so gently. He is a great eater, growing fast, sleeps beautifully - life is almost easier in these days than it was before he came. Tessa has matured exponentially - going from an almost unhealthy attachment with me whereupon she seemed to always have to have her finger on me, to a wonderful independence and a surprising surrender of my attention in this beautiful awareness of allowing his needs to be met. We are truly an overjoyed, happy family. Not without our ugly moments at 3am and grouchiness and spilled milk and over tiredness and piles of diapers and unkept laundry, but deeply, soulfully satisfied and all so mutually in love. This is such a magical time, and truly - if I was given the choice, I would without question jump at the opportunity to re-live the labor and delivery experiences of both my children, for how exquisitely transcendent and deep those moments were, to meet these little people at once, so overwhelmed by love and gratitude.

So Finn is 4 weeks old. We are in our new home, which is more or less all-settled, decorated, cozy. These things I was never sure would ever be part of my vocabulary - my husband, daughter, son, and even, my home . . . I savor the opportunity to even speak their names.

Work begins again for me in two weeks. I love my job. I dream of never having to return, to living in this almost imaginary world of diapering chaos and sweet, soft cheeks on my lips and homemade yeast bread in the oven midday. I try to not be bitterly jealous of the women out there for whom my temporary fantasy is a daily reality. When I return to work, I  did before and will again - love my job and thrill for the challenge of it and make it the best place to be from sheer belief that it's just silly to let yourself be in one place wishing to be elsewhere. So while I am here, I will likewise think little on other places and absorb deeply, every soft little kiss and sleeping breath and colored marker cuticle and peanut-butter smile. These days are so dear to me, I'm so happy they are truly here.