Balance. Rythym.

I've been thinking a lot recently about stuff. Every two hours or so, when I cozy up in a chair to feed my baby boy (that is, if I'm not pulled over on the side of the road somewhere, or parked in some random parking lot with my boobs hanging out) my mind starts to wander. (It wanders better in the chair. It wanders in parking lots too, when I'm not too busy giving the stinkeye to people driving by with that "what-the-frack-are-you-doing" look on their face.)

I've been thinking about a few things.

Balance. And rhythm. And how important they are in life.

Lets do rhythm first.

When I say rhythm, I'm talking about the rhythm of the days. The weeks. We had a great discussion about music in my mom's group last week, and how much children love rhythm in music and rhyme. They love it because it's repetitive, and they know what's coming next.

And that's why I love it too.

Friends, I am a planner. I am a Virgo, so part of me just can't help it. I like to plan my day, my week, and as far in advance as I can see. Hell, we (and when I say we, I mean me and my Virgo husband and my Virgo son) have a 15 year calender hanging up in our living room, with significant events penciled in.

Yes, I'm THAT girl.

I came across my label maker the other day, and felt like I'd found a long lost friend...this is why thing have been so helter skelter in my life...and I didn't even realize it!

You think I'm joking. I'm not.

I've been trying very hard to get into a rhythm here lately. It's hard with an infant. Hell, it's twice as hard with a three year old. But we try.

Morning routines. Evening routines. Things that repeat themselves every week, like "big show" nights. Saturdays we shop. Go to the dump. Sundays we chill. Play games. Routines are good for EVERYONE around here.

But then things start messing with your rhythym. A husband with a crazy job. A long weekend. A baby who suddenly likes to sleep for three hours in the morning (which, don't get me wrong, is WICKED AWESOME!) but what happens when it's time to go to Wednesday morning activities, and baby is sound asleep? Do I wake him up, a half hour before it's time to go, and only an hour into his nap, to feed him and change him? Do I stuff him in the car seat the second before it's time to go, and PRAY he keeps sleeping? (Because the other option, the one where he screams for half an hour in the car while we drive to town, because I WOKE HIM UP, and he is STARVING, is less than enjoyable.) Or do I say screw the activities, and stay home.

Today I did. And it was blissful.

Which brings me to balance.

Everyone needs certain things in their life to make them happy and make them feel fulfilled. I need my family. I need physical activity. I need to create. I need to nurture. I need time to chill, which I usually get here, because it's tough for me to sit still otherwise. I need my friends. (And I need my Wednesday morning latte, which dammed if I didn't miss this morning when I skipped my day out!)

With a newborn in the house, things have been heavy on the "family" and the "nurture" end of things. These are wonderful times to cherish, I don't regret or begrudge them in the least, but I'm starting to feel the effects of being unbalanced. I long for my creative time, making things with my hands. I miss my quilts. And I think it's funny to notice that I'm not as keen on my garden this spring as I have been in the past - likely I because it falls under the "nurture" category, and that dance card is all full up!

However, I feel like half the battle has already been fought, just recognizing these things. Figuring myself out and knowing what I need puts me that much further ahead of the game. Being a wife and a mother is still relatively new to me in the grand scheme of things, so it's OK that I'm still getting the hang of this whole thing. (At least I feel like it is OK. Don't tell me if it isn't, m'kay?)

Today, instead of waking up the baby to drag him out and be social, I reorganized my sewing room. Or rather, I started to. It's a bit of a feat of epic proportions, but it's on it's way. I can see the sewing on the horizon. Next week I start a running clinic. RUN you say?? I always swore the only time I'd run was if something VERY large was chasing me, but here I am, getting ready to run. This falls under the physical activity category. (And if there was a "kill myself slowly" category, it would headline it too, because...RUN?? Peeps, I'm so out of shape that this may well be the end of me, but at least I'll have tried.)

This year (of being on mat leave) is about my and my baby, but it's also about growing as a person, and as a family, and making our little world here a better place.

I feel like we're on the right track.