Today was many days in one. It was the day that we (after a year of living at 2389) finally made it to the river. We played on the shoals. We scrambled through briar patches and muddy slopes to get there. We did this all with my daughter on my back.
Today was also the day that we felt the little one's first tooth bud (finally...hallelujah!) Maybe we'll finally get to meet that tyrannical piece of enamel and calcium responsible for making our daughter growl at god for the agony of teething.
It was a good day. It was, at times, a hard day, as parenting days are meant to be sometimes. I say meant because I believe it's the first year of parenting that gets you in to shape to be a good parent for the rest of your wee one's life. It's this first you that you, "get your head out of your asshole" as my husband has said, that your ego is annihilated, that you let someone else become the center of your universe. It is a promising year (at seven months I feel this)and it is exhausting.
Like most peak experiences it rips the bottom out of your comfortable, habitual life and leaves you falling and falling (sometimes flailing, sometimes laughing, sometimes fearful, but most times trusting that the ground is there somewhere). It also makes you appreciate the simple things; bike rides, elevator flirtation, and a glass of red wine at the end of the day.
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