When Writer’s Block Turns Into Melancholy Word Spit-Up (Sorry In Advance)

December 9, 2016

Mirrors are filled with magic.

Mirrors are filled with magic.

I write while the baby nurses or naps. But the past couple days, my mind has felt like a blank slate. All I can think when I look down at my ever-growing boy is this:

He is growing too fast and I miss him too much.

Last week, he learned to clasp his hands. Now he often sits around, hands clasped, like a little old man waiting on someone to bring him lunch. Yesterday, he reached up and pulled the handle that makes the windmill on his swing spin round and round. I used to have to pull that for him. Does he even need me anymore? But then last night, he started tugging at my t-shirt: a baby on a breastfeeding mission, and I was reminded I’m still needed. We’ll probably be the mom and son duo with the son pulling on his mom’s shirt in public yelling BOOBS and passersby looking at us thinking “isn’t he too old for that”? I’ll be the judge.

I hardly realize he is changing every day, except that now it seems he is doing something new nearly every time I turn around. Then I look at pictures and I see the changes there too: him at two days old coming home from the hospital, barely fitting in his car seat; and him now, nearly 15 weeks to the hour, almost ready for the next size up. For a while he was gaining a pound a week; now he’s down to under half a pound a week, but the changes are still visible. He is literally growing right before our eyes. I should know because I stare at him a lot.

I want to soak it up. But it seems I can’t soak it up fast enough because it is going by too fast.

By the time I go back to work in February, I will have had 24 weeks at home with him. By America’s standards, I am incredibly fortunate, but it is still not enough. If and when he goes to college, it probably still won’t have been enough. I’m already mourning things that have yet to come: my first day back to work; his first day of Kindergarten; his wedding day. I’m going to try really hard to not be that mom, but I make no promises.

The days and nights (even middle of the nights) we have together now are some of the best times I will ever experience as his mom. Especially this time of year. My husband and I will never have another first Christmas as parents again. We hope to have a baby’s first Christmas again, but this is our first (and only first) as parents, so I’m trying to capture every memory while also living in the moment. It’s weird how some of your happiest times are the ones with the heaviest of clouds hanging over them. Because I know these moments are fleeting and we’ll look back one day in the not-too-distant-future and for years to come and wonder where they went.

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So now that I’ve bummed everyone out about how we’re getting so old so fast, let me say something positive. (But first: I’m sorry. I didn’t know when I sat down to write today that this was going to come out, but it seems every time I sit down to write, my fingers just want to type “where is my baby, where is the time going.”)

Anyway.

Although I have loved the newborn phase and all of its hallmarks (cluster feedings, seeing each other at least every two hours at night, the tiniest of clothes), the infant phase is so cool. Jack smiles because he thinks his dad and I are funny. We play games (mirrors are delightful). And nothing is free from his mouth. Everything goes in there: his Woody doll, his blankets, sometimes my nose. He is trying so hard to sit up by himself, and before we know it, he’ll be sitting, crawling, walking, running, swinging, and all of the other verbs little boys do.

He has also found his voice. He cooed as a newborn, of course, but now he has all of these sounds. Happy sounds, tired sounds, mad sounds. One day he’ll use that voice to tell me he loves me, and my heart will melt. So while I’m mourning the end of the newborn phase, I’m welcoming the coming phases with open arms.

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If you’re still reading this, God bless you. I hope Heaven has a special place reserved for readers of blogs whose writers ramble on far too long. If it does, you’re going there.

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6 thoughts on “When Writer’s Block Turns Into Melancholy Word Spit-Up (Sorry In Advance)

  1. Corey | The Nostalgia Diaries

    Brooke, my daughter is 5 years old and I’m still thinking the same things that you are with your son. Here’s what I remind myself: it all goes so fast. So I put in to practice being mindful of the time that I do have with her and to appreciate every minute of it. Being more engaged in those moments helps me to remember. Writing helps, too. I kept journals for the first few years of my daughter’s life, and when I read those words, I’m transported back immediately: I can smell her sweet baby scent, I can feel her in my arms, I hear her quiet coos and whispers. And you’re right: as they get older, the better it gets. Every day with my daughter feels like I’m rediscovering the world again, and I wish they would tell you how it will feel this way, even in the moments where all you want to do is sleep. It is all so very worth it. I think Elizabeth Stone said it best: “Making the decision to have a child – it is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.” Thank you for sharing this. I ramble too, so I suppose we’re kindred spirits. I look forward to reading more! #fandayfriday

    Reply
    1. Brooke Post author

      Hi Corey! Sorry it has taken me so long to respond. Thank you for reading my blog and commenting. And wow, your feedback is spot on — being more mindful of the time we have with our kids, journaling, etc. And I love the quote you shared from Elizabeth Stone – thank you so much for sharing. Happy holidays!

      Reply
  2. Mother of 3

    Aw, my boys are 9, 10 & 12… and I wonder every day how the time went by so fast! Though if I’m honest I don’t miss that newborn stage at all; other than the cuddles and the coos. I was not one of those moms who dealt well with interrupted sleep. Enjoy and just know there’s always something to cherish… each day I marvel at something new.

    Reply
    1. Brooke Post author

      Hi Joanne! Sorry for taking so long to reply. Thank you for taking the time to read my blog and comment. I really appreciate it, and I love interacting with other mamas! Happy holidays to you and your three boys!

      Reply
  3. Patty Gordon

    The moment you get done with changing diapers and have the kids potty trained you really will start to feel you aren’t needed…until they can’t find their shoes and they are on their feet! LOL! Thank you so much for posting this personal look at watching your little one grow on the latest #FanDayFriday Link party at iamzoewatson.com.

    Hope you get some great traffic from your post and that I can read more of your posts next week!

    Reply
    1. Brooke Post author

      Hi Patty! Thanks so much for reading and commenting. It’s good to know I’ll be needed once again when he can’t find his shoes. 🙂 Happy holidays!

      Reply

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