Day by day

If I had a first year calendar for myself, like I have been (sort of) keeping for Hallie since March, I would've been taking note of my important firsts. Like the first time I took both of the girls grocery shopping by myself, or drove to my parents' without Ben, or even just drank a few beers after all the pregnancy, nursing, then pregnancy and more nursing in less than two years.

I'd happily omit notations about near meltdowns, angry words to Claire, crying babies in the backseat, and a hangover or two. I wouldn't have written much of anything the months of April and May, when after the new-baby glow wore off and I found myself wondering what to do with two children under age 2 all day, and my husband and I could barely speak to each other. When I went back to work, briefly, and could not find that magic answer to the question "Am I doing the right thing?"

In June, there would have been many chirpy little notes. Went to the zoo today! Played at the park! Strolled in the gardens! I'd circle the date mid-month and include a big sad face to mark an unforgettable experience: Quit nursing baby. If you were one of my closest friends, you'd know the whole story of what led to my giving it up much earlier than I thought I should've. You'd know about that awful visit to the doctor, when he told me the "rash" on my baby's feet was actually bruising, and how, after many agonizing moments, I remembered her kicking at the rocking chair in the middle of the night, fighting my nursing her. Does this happen to others? They don't write about it in the parenting magazines.

Then, in July, I'd draw wavy lines and a sun and write "heat wave" across entire weeks. Again, I might not have mentioned things like Watched too much TV or Took kids to the mall again. But let's not forget to note Much laughter (including the baby).

Anyone still with me? August brought another test, when my former boss left her job and I had to ponder whether to go for it. I followed my gut and didn't apply, and then questioned it continually until I heard that the interviews had already been conducted. And again, so many joyful occasions and moments. A dear relative's gorgeous wedding, my little girls so breathtakingly sweet in their little dresses, being hugged by everyone we love. Daily walks around the neighborhood, with Claire breaking out in song: Tinkle, tinkle widdle star! How I wonder ... UP ABOVE WUD SO HIGH! LIKE A DIAMOND IN THE SKY! Late afternoons spent outside with just her while Hallie napped, the sun blazing and Claire splashing in the plastic pool.

And now here we are at September. Our baby is already six months old and no amount of holding her and watching her sleep and letting the housework go is slowing down the time. And try as we might, Claire won't let us keep her a baby anymore either. "I wanna talk to Becky N___," she said into her pink furry phone when I walked into the room the other day. Thank God, her dad finally started wanting to talk to me too. We stayed up half the night recently, catching up on months worth of pent-up goals-and-dreams talk, the necessary financial update, and the this-is-how-I'm-feeling-and-what-about-you business that we just had not ever made time for, even when we had sat down for a beer or two.

The work is rolling in, the deadlines always looming. The checkbook hasn't been balanced in months (so unlike me) and the housework is never ending. But if there is anything that I really need to make time for, it is this, for noting not only the firsts and the "aren't we great" moments, but also those things I might otherwise leave unsaid -- mostly for myself, but also for anyone else that might relate a little, or even not relate. I'm talking both to myself and to anyone, and in this solitary world of raising children, it's an important conversation worth having.