Fleeting moments

We haven't had a deep post in a while.  I think we are due...

So I've had one whole year to adjust to becoming a mama.  I still don't see myself as a "mom" or a "mother".  I prefer to call myself a "mama".  But I also don't consider myself a woman -- I still feel like a girl (which I believe is a good thing).  I think that I like "mama" because I'm comfortable with using that term.  Way before I had Finorah, I would lovingly refer to my friends with "mama"s or "lady"s.  I'm not opposed to others calling me a mom or mother.  I just don't like to refer to myself in that fashion.  Okay, that turned into a total sidebar...

Back to my original thought, I've had one whole year to adjust...  I think that I stepped in my role as Mama quite easily.  Rarely do I second-guess my decision with Finorah, but at the moment, we aren't discussing sex, drugs, and the like.  It's whether she should be picked up or cry on the floor (a lot of the times, I let her cry on the floor -- if I got sh*t to do, I got sh*t to do; she can still see me, I ain't going anywhere, but I can't drop everything to pick her up.  The girl has to learn now that the world isn't always going to turn on her dime and it's not always going to be about her, but I'll always be there for her and she has to learn some patience.)  There have been some moments of guilt because of course, hindsight is 20/20.  I should have checked her diaper before I put her down for a nap.  I should have grabbed the camera before we left.  I shouldn't have given her that fourth cookie.  But for the most part, I think that so far I haven't scarred her yet.

I don't know it all.  Hell, half of the time I feel like I don't know anything and I struggle to make it from one moment to the next.  I know that when the physical difficulties that we are experiencing now leave, new difficulties are going to take their place.  Just when I'm excited that she learns how to play by herself and I don't have to hold her and rock her; I'm going to miss rocking her and holding her with her needing me so fierce.  I try my best every day to realize that the time that I have with her is fleeting.  In the moments that I wish her just a little bigger, I feel a huge pang of guilt and then I start to cry.  Because when these moments are gone, they are gone.  There is no going back and wishing her smaller again, although I know that it is something that I'm going to get really good at as she progresses through life.  I try my best to live in every single moment, but people, that is seriously hard to do day-in and day-out, not to mention, exhausting.  There are days where I count down the minutes until it is bed time.  And then when bedtime comes and she is sleeping next to me, I look down at her sweet little angel face and realize that I just wished away fours and I'm never going to get back with her.

I can live with the guilt that I feel at that moment, because I know that I have the next day to make up for taking those moments for granted.  And I really do try to make up for it by soaking in more of the everyday experiences the next day.  But even sadder than wishing away a couple of hours here or there is the fact that I don't remember exactly when she was a little wee one.  I have some memories, but the year has gone by so quickly that I feel like I didn't get to relish those memories before they started to slip away.  This past year has been exactly like the way that she came into the world -- a little bit of pain, a lot of awesomeness and way too fast for my tastes...

I am so thankful that I took tons of photos and videos.  The other day, I found videos that I took on my iPad, some from a couple of months ago, some when she was 5 months old.  I was surprised at how quickly she has changed and how quickly I forgot how stinkin' cute she was.  And grateful doesn't even begin to describe my feelings about this blog.  I think that I did this as much for myself as I did for family and friends.  I have a beautiful record of her first year, filled with TONS of photos and TONS of videos. But more importantly, it is filled with my written words, describing life with her.  Although I may trudge through some weeks on this blog or not have enough time to write something meaningful -- when I do, I will be thankful to myself in years to come.  It may not be the same thing as living in that moment again, I will always have the words that I felt while I was living in that moment.  And more importantly, she will have a written record for herself of just how much her family loved her...



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