𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗛𝗨𝗥 𝗜𝗦 ➍ 𝗠𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗛𝗦!

⫸ 𝕋𝕠𝕡 𝕋𝕖𝕟 𝕋𝕚𝕕𝕓𝕚𝕥𝕤 ⫷
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➙ 14 pounds
➙ 24.5 inches long
➙ officially part of the “rolling club”
➙ superhero Jack-Jack for Halloween
➙ “Mr. I Don’t Like Sleep Anymore”
➙ enjoyed 1st time on the swing at the park
➙ wakes up every 2-4 hours overnight again
➙ loves to watch Big Sis dance and play piano
➙ cracks up at Dad’s pretend “toot noises”
➙ started swim classes with a friend

⫸ 𝕄𝕒𝕞𝕒’𝕤 𝕄𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕧𝕖𝕝𝕠𝕦𝕤 𝕄𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥 ⫷
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This month I’ve realized that the ‘most marvelous moment’ is not always because of it’s perfection, but sometimes because of the exhale that follows the struggle.

“Breathe in 1, 2, 3 … and out 3, 2, 1 …”

It’s been my mantra this past month; quite literally my mellow chant that I’ve rehearsed out-loud on repeat. Despite watching your perfect little self discover more details of this big world with each passing day, this month felt hard.  Mixed in with your baby giggles and goofy grins, you had uncontrollable outbursts and clawed at my chest in frustration. Whether it was impatience with my slow milk letdown, crankiness from not enough sleep, or just painful gas that was upsetting you, I’ll never know… You couldn’t use words to tell me, and frankly, I became speechless many times, too. I relied on counting:

“Breathe in 1, 2, 3 … and out 3, 2, 1 …”

Daddy was on night shift, and that evening presented all the elements of a perfect storm; spinning out of control like a tornado was tiredness from sleep regression, overwhelming household duties, and ‘mommy hormones’ accompanied with low milk supply.  After mixing in some heavy grief from terribly missing your big brother, the end result was a hurricane. Our house was flooded with tears as you and I shared a dramatic tantrum together. That was, until…

You laughed at me. And I mean, you. laughed. at. me!  All of a sudden life became really funny to you, Arthur.  Maybe it was the sound of my snot-filled nose snorting between ugly cries, or maybe it was the crazy design the runny mascara made on my cheeks that sent you into a hilarious cackling fit.  Either way, that contagious laugh of yours was the big gust of wind that pushed away all the looming dark clouds; it blew in a fresh breath of air that I swallowed as fast as I could…

“Breathe in 1, 2, 3 … and out 3, 2, 1…”

My shoulders relaxed, you latched-on, and I nursed you into a peaceful sleep. As I sat still, I thought about the skill of counting to three; how can something I mastered in preschool be so tough?  It’s true; in the moments where anxiety has you in a chokehold, the concentration required to recite three consecutive numbers becomes extreme talent in and of itself.  Our demanding society constantly raises the expectations of parenthood, but even if I’m gasping for air trying to keep up, you’ll always be my beautiful ‘exhale’, Arthur Nelson.

I love you, Artie🧸 

-❤️Alexandria
… join me by #FallingRightSideUp 👆🏼
when life gets turned upside down👇🏼
Psalm 46:5