Time.

WHY AM I SO BAD AT THIS BLOG THING?

It's this time of year, a lot of it. Last year I was still on maternity leave during the pre-holiday heavy workload time of year, so I could write infinite posts full of Tycho pictures, but this year I got a promotion and I'm so busy at work and I have a toddler at home and I can't just type with one hand while nursing anymore. I want to blog because I want to capture my life right now because I know that next year (or even next month) I will have forgotten so much of what right now is like. Because it all changes so fast.

But here I am trying.

Tycho at 15 months

Sometimes after Tycho goes to bed at night, or on my lunch break at work on my phone, I like to go through old photos and reminisce. Not old old. Back to this spring or even just to his birthday. That was over three months ago now. It feels like it was yesterday. But then I look back at these pictures and I see this tiny baby boy that I barely recognize. He is already a completely different person, and did his hair really grow that much in such a short time? I remember it already being so long then.

I watch old videos from when he was tiny. Before he could crawl or walk or even sit up by himself. I don't even remember that time. How did this all happen?

That's motherhood, I guess. I need to be better at this. I take tons of pictures, and I'm so happy that I have each and every one of them, but I also need more than just these snapshots. I need to save my experience of what it feels like to be right here in this moment with my 479-day-old little boy, because tomorrow everything might be different.

But at the same time I'm trying also to carve out time for me to just be Astrid and not mama, and I want to prioritize my marriage and alone time with my husband, and I want to be the best that I can at work, and all of these things are so hard to balance. Never mind doing the laundry or sweeping the floor or actually decorating our new home.

I think I'm doing a pretty good job. I'm mostly happy in all the facets of me. I am a good mother. My baby boy thinks I am the best thing ever. THE. BEST. Period. Nothing tops mama. But sometimes he refuses even me kisses. It's okay. I'm doing great at work, and generally feel energized about being there. I know my job isn't, in the grand scheme of things, very important or meaningful, but I like what I do. I go on dates with my husband once in a while. We are planning a trip just the two of us for after the holidays. Somewhere warm. Maybe Hawaii. Just me is in there somewhere too. Things are good. Now is good. Just hope I can remember it all.

Two.

Today Husband and I have been married for two years. In August it will have been six since we met. There is nothing in my world that exists except for in relation to him. And I don't mean that in a pathetic, I have no interests or hobbies of my own kind of way, but rather that even when he's not here and I'm doing something completely unrelated to him or our relationship he is still there with me.

There are a lot of people who ask about marriage  "why bother?"  Why don't we just keep on keepin' on? Why do we have to make a big deal out of it? The legal aspects are neither here nor there (although they are nice). And it's not about all the pomp and circumstance of a big wedding. It's the total commitment of yourself to your partner for life. And that's so much more than just love.

When Husband and I got married I knew that I was ready to make this commitment, and I that I wanted to be with him forever and that I wanted for him to be my family and the father to my children. But still, I had no idea how this would change our relationship. It's hard to describe the difference. The subtle permanence of us permeates everything now. I could never have predicted the comfort and ease of just knowing. Knowing what, I'm not even sure, but it's there, in the background, behind everything that I do and think and feel. And it is amazing.

Husband is not the perfect man. He's not the perfect husband.  I imagine that some of my acquaintances think that my marriage is doomed to fail based on the anecdotes I share with them.  He is irritating and messy and I'm needy and we fight and complain about each other. But it is all superficial. Underlying all of the imperfection is something special that I cannot describe, but I can feel it, all the time, and I know everything is going to be okay.