2 years

Ezra turned 2 this week. Jeremy wrote a little summary of what he's into and included some photos. It's a bit of a mind bender in a good way. I didn't dwell too much on memories of his birth this year, like I sometimes do with all the kids. He's fascinating and hilarious and well...two. He's got so much on the go that I was thinking ahead more than back. Yesterday afternoon he looked at me quite seriously and said something like "My birthday, want do it again!".

On his birthday I was picking up one of the last items in the baby section that I expect to ever need there (for myself) and it felt odd. I felt like I didn't belong in that world anymore and it was OKAY by me. I know at some point I'll miss these years but for now I'm ready for the next stage. I got to rock and snuggle Ezra to sleep last night, he was so wound up. I'm enjoying those moments while they last.

I don't care what any research says (and I haven't looked) but it takes my body, mind and hormones about 2 years to come back to "normal" after having a baby. No matter how long/short I breastfed. It was less pronounced this third time around because I had a better idea of what to expect and how I cope with it, but it is still undeniably physical.

Along with the improved reasoning faculties comes restlessness. I need to channel that in a functional way. The last time we were at this stage we ended up selling our townhouse and moving into a sweet rental with our eye on extended travel. I found out I was pregnant a few days after moving into the new place and all bets were off.

I think it will be an interesting year.

addendum to rant

The peak of PMS has passed and I'm back to taking responsibility for my own life and analyzing the choices I made along the way. My mom called to chat and gracefully pointed out that yes, my memory is very selective. There were sympathetic teachers and I realize that I wasn't often discouraged from doing things but wasn't self-motivated to come up with a lot of cool things on my own.

Other people didn't think nurse was a good match for me necessarily either but were kind enough to be supportive of what I said I wanted. It creeps me out a bit that that's the kind of friend I am. If you say you want to do something, it is my job to support what you say you want. Who am I to question it? It's particularly frustrating when my gut is saying it's all wrong but I'm not brave enough to confront a friend. It's easier through work in a professional relationship but it will always be a challenge for me.

My mom reminded me that I considered taking a recreation degree...now that would have been a great match. I don't recall a lot of support and ultimately rejected it because it seemed too frivolous (not serious academic study!) and impractical - no obvious job at grad. Say WHAT!? I can't come up with any other reason I didn't pursue it. And to think I ended up with a psych degree that time around. That's super practical and about a tenth of the fun.

No matter how inaccurate my memories are, I'm left with my impressions and how they've shaped me. Learning from it, adjusting those perspectives and growing from there are the challenges. It's all good.