It seems to early but spring is filling the earth around me. Time is being spent out doors. Walks (multiple in one day) and skin turning pink, welcoming the warmth of the sun back.
A year ago Millie was a wee babe, newly hatched and probably screaming her head off. It was a hard time for us. Not that we didn't love having her here. She brought much joy. But my body was a bit of a wreck, suffering the after effects of a difficult pregnancy and a c-section. I just wasn't myself (emotionally, mentally, or physically) and it's hard not to be yourself. But babies love you no matter who you are. So we huddled inside, trying desperately to figure one another out.
Though no one wants to hear of the struggles I can't seem to bring myself to pass over them. They were hard and they were real. And they have shaped us: Millie and me. Things are far from perfect now but I see my life so differently now. Pushing through the difficult makes the good taste oh so sweet.
I love that Millie can crawl around, touch flowers and trees for the first time. Timidly she crawls up to the bush she never noticed before. She reaches out, touching it ever so soft, pulling her hand back quickly. Then she looks up at me filled with joy and excitement and curiosity. Everything is so new and enticing (and usually ends up in her mouth).
I love that I can work in the yard. As Millie takes her nap I put on my holey and ever worn converse, grab the shovel and rake, put all the seeds and bulbs into a bucket and head out. Feeling my body move, my muscles strain as I tame the earth that has sprouted weeds and fill it with wildflowers and begonias and poppies. The satisfaction of my bare fingers in the earth and hope of new growth is invigorating. And after a day of sun on my face and fresh air in my lungs, I feel content.
I love and appreciate the growth I see in little Miss Millie. She stacks her toys and food in little piles. She has a silly giggle when she stands on wobbly legs, trying to decide if she dares to walk. She squeals and laughs at most anything and cuddles us when her eyes begin to droop at the end of a long day.
I love being married to someone who listens and cares. He so willing adapts and changes to our needs as a family and a couple. He even asks me what we did at exercise group, though I know it can't be that interesting.
I don't want to forget all the bad. It is there and has been written on my heart. It is apart of who I am. It makes me love all the good so much more.
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