Dear Reader, The bull's eye...

This motherhood thing never ceases to surprise me.  I've marveled at a baby growing inside me, been scared half to death to have a baby live outside me, worked hard to keep said baby inside me for 40 weeks, failed miserably and had said baby safely (thank goodness) appear at 34 weeks. 

I've thought, "my word, what did you do to deserve this blissful 0-6 week old?" then thought, "I know exactly what I did to deserve this 6 week-7 month old." 

I've felt like I was dangling on the edge of insanity, have definitely jumped into the cavern of insanity, then traveled back to the solid ground of sanity and stood so firmly there that I had the gall to ask myself what all the fuss was about. 

I've been eager to get out of my house and back to a job I actually knew how to do, then questioned my decision to work outside the home.  I have cried at the sound of my little one's middle of the night cries...so heartbroken that he hurt too much to sleep.  Then I have insensitively yelled in frustration at the inability of slumber to find him so that it could find me, too.  I have barked at The One to please go get the baby, then rushed in because surely I was the only one who could calm him.

I have obsessively read about MSPI, reflux, how to get your baby to sleep through the night.  And then I have thumbed my nose at books and websites and their inability to answer my questions to my satisfaction.

Point is...I've been all over the board.   

But now...

Right now...

I wish my frame of mind could stay indefinitely in its present state. 

Things have just been clicking lately.  There have been more moments where I am present.  Where my mind is not wandering to why his leg kicks up like it does when he walks and why he's had so many fevers lately, and if he has a speech delay.   My mind is still instead and finding joy in his adorable gait, grunts, and babbles.  I find myself patient (not a quality I normally possess) and giddy and smiling at every little thing he does. 

Even a cry in the middle of the night is met with the reluctant realization that his moments of neediness are getting fewer and farther between.  And so lately I've been stealing into his room to soothe sooner than normal.  I inhale the scent of baby wash in his hair; I let my lips graze the top of his head; I whisper all the things I hope and pray for him; I sing and rock until he tucks his little arms under his belly and sticks his little booty out in his "sleep position". 

I'm not naive.  I know there are more moments to come when I will continue to be all over the board.  But for now...

For now, I'm enjoying this moment in time when the dart has landed squarely on the bull's eye of satisfaction and contentment.