Letter to Peanut at 7 Months

Dearest Peanut,

Spending time with you is truly the best part of each and every day.  You are endlessly happy and playful, and with your smiles, laughter, calm energy, curiosity and overall contentment, you bring so much joy to my life.  In truth, you enrich not only to my life, but Papa's life, Nana and Nani's lives, and to the lives of nearly everyone you meet.  You have a magnetic, compelling energy about you; neighbors in our building and strangers on the street often stop to talk with you, and tell us what an amazing person you are. 

I know I say this every month, but I continue to be amazed by your growing set of skills and abilities.  Human development is like a magical thing, and watching you grow is like watching a caterpillar morph into a butterfly.  You are finding your legs, stretching your wings, and releasing your spirit, bit by bit, day by day.  Here are some milestones from this past month:

• You officially started daycare full-time, and seem to really love your time there.  The teachers adore you, as do the other kids.  You're the youngest of the group.  When Papa or I drop you off in the mornings, the kids all gather around your stroller and call your name, touch your belly and arms, and express their excitement about seeing you.  You smile or squeal and kick your legs as an excited response.
• You started eating solid foods.  Despite having shown a great deal of visual interest in the foods Papa and I were eating for many weeks prior, you approached the actual consumption with some hesitance.  We started you with organic bananas, sweet potatoes, and carrots, but you didn't eat more than a spoonful or two of the purees we prepared or the jarred food we bought for the first two weeks.  Then, suddenly began eating with gusto.  First an ounce of carrots, then sweet potatoes, peas and squash.  You tried a little watermelon at the beach, and a little mango.  Now you're eating about 2.5 - 3oz of veggies at a time, twice a day.  I'm bummed that I haven't been able to prepare more homemade food for you yet, but I hope to do so starting in the fall.  
• You started babbling with different sounds!  Right before Papa's birthday, you started saying "da da da da" (which of course, Papa LOVED; he told everyone it was your birthday gift to him).  I am sure that when recounting the history of your life, you're going to be told that your first word was "Dada," though at this moment we're pretty clear that you're simply playing with sounds.  Right before we saw Nana a few days later, you started saying "na na na na" as well.  Good timing, kid ;)
• You started sitting up, solidly.  Now we can put you on the floor sitting up, and you'll play with toys there for long periods of time.
• You developed a keen interest in the cats, and frequently watched their movements around the apartment.
•  One of the coolest skills you developed was the ability to find your pacifier, get to it, and put it in your mouth.  Many times it will be a few feet away from you (in your crib, for instance) and you'll either roll or creep over to it, stretch your arm out, grab it, and stick it in your mouth.  Then you'll realize it's the wrong way (you often stick the handle in first), take it out, look at it, turn it around using your other hand, and put it in the correct way.  I don't know how to explain how remarkable it is to see you master such a complex skill. 

We had some fun adventures together this month; we explored a hip neighborhood in the city with one of your aunties from the midwest and one of your uncles from Puerto Rico.  We celebrated Papa's birthday at the beach with a few other babies of queer parents.  We went to a barbeque with some of my old coworkers.  And of course, we spent some quality time with Nana, Nani and your uncle.

My Peanut, my love for you grows bigger every day.  I'm looking forward to sharing another month of life experiences with you.

Love,
Your Mama

Ragged

I am utterly exhausted.  My bones are tired, my mind is spinning, and I can barely keep my eyes open.  My boss told me to consider going home to get a head start on the evening and catch up on sleep.  As someone who prides herself on Keeping It Together At All Times, that was a major blow to my front.

I'm not quite sure what I'm doing wrong, but somehow, every day feels like a marathon of to-do lists.  26.2 never-ending miles of making lunches, prepping bottles, cooking, cleaning, working, grocery shopping, running errands.  I'm not really doing much else.  S and I do a pretty good job of keeping routines; we cook large quantities of food once a week, we divide labor in the household equally, and at this point, we even have Peanut on a routine.  She goes to bed at 8pm every night (after play, dinner, bath and bedtime story) and actually falls asleep for the night.

But it's not working.

Somehow, even as someone with so much privilege - access to lots of support and resources while doing this parenting/living life thing - I feel like I'm failing.  I'm failing at doing the best I can.

I can't keep up with my own life.  There is always more to do, more to manage.  I try to let things go (mostly, cleaning the apartment) to create space for a little summer fun.  And then things pile up and I feel more overwhelmed than before the fun.

The small things keep getting in the way of the big things.  When I think about how "busy" I am, I realize I'm filling my time with things that are about maintaining my life, not embracing it or living it fully.  I worry that I've relegated caring for Peanut into just another set of tasks on my list.  Picked her clothes out?  Check.  Changed her diaper?  Check.  Spent thirty minutes connecting with her and making her laugh?  Check.

Something needs to change.

I feel like crying when I see how truly connected Peanut is to her daycare providers, and when they tell me things I wish I knew about her daily development.  I resent every minute of hustling and hauling stuff (groceries, laundry) around this challenging city.  The cats feel like a nuisance.  I have very little space or time to engage in real self-care - exercise, breathing, enjoying nature, cooking for fun, being creative, writing.  I'm barely connecting with S at this point.  We move through our days like the sun and the moon; sharing the same sky, but so very far apart from one another.

I miss Peanut.  I miss S.  I miss myself.  I have run myself ragged.  And I don't know how to stop.