This is the only way that diapers ever get washed around here.
I'm in the midst of my second full week of "going solo" with Peter while my husband is at work, and it has been an incredible adventure. At first, being home alone with my adorable newborn seemed incredibly daunting. But not only have I been surviving; I've been greatly enjoying life. Yes, life with a newborn is a difficult, crazy adjustment (I'm still figuring out how to actually get stuff done in the daytime, but I've been reassured by friends that I'll have plenty of time to figure it out), but it is such a joyful blessing-I often find myself grinning cheesily throughout the day. There have been so many things I've been keeping in my mind and heart as I strive to keep my sanity and enjoy myself, and I'd like to share a few of them with all of you!
I learned from classes and other women that when one is in labor, there is a moment of conviction. A moment when you declare, "I'm in labor. I NEED TO GO TO THE HOSPITAL!!!!"
However, this is not always the case.
I have found that you don't always feel this conviction and intense attitude. In fact, sometimes you need your husband to convince you that you are in labor, and force you to go to the hospital. So I'm linking up with Kelly to discuss how you can go about ignoring and being fairly oblivious to labor.
Today, June 14, marks the 80-year anniversary of G.K. Chesterton's death. Maybe you are a hardcore fan of Chesterton. Perhaps you've never even heard of the man. In my life, Chesterton has often had a glimmer of a presence. A quotation of his adorned my bedroom wall as a teenager, I picked up a book or two of his a few times-but I've never thought much about him. A few years ago, I realized that things needed to change. I would proudly mention journalist, author, and apologist G.K. Chesterton to other people and profess how amazing he was..but I had only read a few small bits of his writings. I've tried to remedy this situation and read more about-and by-Chesterton. I still have much to read and much to learn, because I just don't appreciate Chesterton enough-and, in no particular order, here's why.
When my husband and I were apartment-hunting last summer, I grew so annoyed at the way in which many complexes functioned. Why does this apartment complex have a swimming pool which is barely being used? Why not ditch the pool and reduce monthly rent??? However, as I leisurely swam back and forth in the water this morning, I began to rethink my position. There's something so calming, so peaceful about silently gliding through the water repeatedly. No music, very few people around, just the calm lapping of the water against my skin. When one isn't a student-or have children who are students-then summer takes on a different meaning. No longer is summertime a small spurt of months in which to cram countless projects and books, a time to forget studies and become utterly lazy in many respects. Instead, not much-objectively-has changed in our lives since summer began. My husband still goes to work, I continue to write, volunteer, and have random adventures, and our baby continues to grow in my belly. However, I think there is a special atmosphere that comes with the long days of summer.
Books are amazing and libraries are dangerous. Without fail, I find myself unable to exit a library unless I'm taking at least 2-6 books with me (my load is usually in the 5+ range...). Lately, I've read some pretty stellar books from a few different genres. Memoir about a young girl escaping from North Korea in the modern day? Check. Jane Austen-inspired novel? Check. Holocaust memoir? Check. One of the very few parenting books I've allowed myself to read? Check. Like I said, it's a bit varied. So let's dive right in!