I am the poster child for worrying and for thankfulness

I'm feeling sad tonight, not for any one particular reason, just in general. I think I've just had this dark cloud hovering over me for a while now, and I wish it would just move on. Sure, there are plenty of specific things that could be bothering me at any given moment, but for now I just feel a general blue color. Not the amazing blue that is Juliette's eyes, not the blue that is the gorgeous Florida sky, not the deep mysterious thrilling blue of the ocean, not the clear light soft blue of my father's eyes...in fact, I don't even know why being sad is equated with being blue since blue is such a lovely color. What's a color I don't really like? Orange? Puce green? Taupe? That's it - I feel taupe. That fits so much better.

Tonight I was watching the weirdest movie, very strange, about this 15 year old girl who gets murdered by her crazy ex-babysitter. The babysitter strangled her and then hung around with the girl's dead body for a few days before she buried her. The parents were frantically trying to find their daughter, and the way the actors displayed grief was all too realistic. It was gut- and heart-wrenching to watch and I wish I would have just turned it off. :( It made my taupe cloud hover a little more heavily.

Plus, several of the mamas who write the blogs I follow have been having an extra hard time lately. My heart just breaks over and over again for them. Why, oh why do these horrible things happen? Why do some (most) people get happy endings while others get horror stories? Who chooses who suffers? I guess it's all random, but somehow that feels so disrespectful (not to mention depressing) to think that way. Like, we want to believe that our heartaches, our losses, our suffering, our pain - that it all has some kind of meaning, or purpose. Right? Wouldn't people just go kind of crazy otherwise?

And with all these scary, sad thoughts rattling around in my head (pretty much all the time), how in the hell am I supposed to relax and enjoy my own happiness? How can I help but become more and more fearful when I fall more and more in love with my incredible daughter with every passing moment? I know it's irrational to think (believe!) that if I can just anticipate, or predict, or prepare for every single awful scenario, then it just could NEVER happen to my family. Like it would be impossibly ironic if it did, you know? I know that's stupid. Yet, it's how I live. And maybe I need help, or maybe I'm just like any other mama, or maybe I'm just a little south of normal, it doesn't really matter because it is what it is. I will worry and fret and wonder and be just a little panicky for the rest of my life. My baby is perfect. She's perfectly perfect, and nothing in my life has ever been that perfect- so how can this be?

I will never have an answer for that question. I don't really want an answer either. I just want to soak her up, enjoy every second, every smile, every laugh, every nap in my arms, every clap, raspberry, sneeze, wave, and babble - and never lose a single memory of this wondrous time with my baby girl. I want to love her without fear, without longing for her as if she isn't right here with me! Oh, what is wrong with my mind? I'm just so damn scared all. the. time.

And now after re-reading what I've written, I feel like such a fool. I am lucky. My daughter is sleeping peacefully and healthy in the next room. She is whole. She has a million miles to go, a billion miles of potential, a trillion miles of happiness ahead of her. She is pink and chubby and robust and full of energy and life force. I am so lucky. My arms are full, my hip is heavy with the weight of her, my backseat is alive with giggles and indignant cries, my kitchen is cluttered with bottles, nipples, and baby food jars, my garbage can fills quickly with used diapers, my dryer has onsies and tiny pajamas and miniature ruffled skirts in it, my ears ring with giggles and squeals, my camera is loaded with happy new pictures day after day, my living room is cluttered with toys, strollers, and pacifiers, my life is bustling and full and exhausting and joyful. My daughter is here with me. I can hug and kiss her and snuggle her anytime I want. Why should I be sad? How dare I be sad? I have it all. Just look at this....

My sweet Juli-bean, how much you are changing and growing by the day! You can now wave bye-bye, clap your hands, identify mommy, daddy, the doggies, and the fan! You are eating more and more solid foods. And you're beginning to sprout some hair! You can crawl (well, scoot) backwards only, you can pull to standing and cruise a little bit. You always want to be standing up - I guess you'll skip that old crawling nonsense, huh? I love you, my sweet! More than you can ever know! Here is another picture of you laughing and being just your cute self!

Shy girl behind your toy!

My Gator Girl!

Clapping to Pat-a-cake! Such a big girl!

I love you my little chicken! Here is the song I've been singing to you lately...

"Summertime and the living is easy,
Fish are jumping and the cotton is high.
Your daddy's rich and your ma is good-looking,
So hush, little baby, don't you cry.

One of these mornings you're gonna rise up singing,
Spread your wings and take to the sky.
But until that morning there is nothing can harm you,
With daddy and mommy standing by." ~ Sam Cooke

xoxo,

Mommy