This, then, is the art of motherhood, and it is not an art of the mind: to hold on and let go, at the same time.
-- Her Bad Mother
This is where I am at these days. Chloe and I are in a new routine - I'm back at work (working from home luckily), and she is shuffled between daycare, Grandma, and home with mom or dad. Its a tough transition and the little one knows that she no longer has momma all to herself like she's had 24hours a day, 7 days a week for the past 13 months. So we struggle. Chloe has never been the clingy sort but these days there are times when she will wail if I put her down. Our nighttime routine is broken and we are muddling our way through sleepless nights peppered with comfort nursing and sobbing until we bring her into our bed. Sometimes I wish it all away and look forward to the days when Chloe is more independent, adjusted, weaned.
And then there are those times that I can't hold her close enough. That I can't wait to lay down beside her, hear her hum along as I sing her to sleep. These temporary moments are anchors in our day, quiet and still. The rest of the time is a whirlwind. She is a toddler alright, doing laps around the main floor, trying to squeeze herself under furniture, poking, prodding, tossing, eating, touching, roaming, yelling, laughing, examining, experimenting, discovering. I sit back and marvel at all the new things she's learned. But it breaks my heart just a little bit too to watch her grow up, watch her grow away.
Found via reader jbhat (thanks for the recommendation) and domestic reflections.