So Much Bigger

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This post has been brewing in my mind for a while now. These reflections catch me off guard; as I'm drifting to sleep, in the morning as I pour my coffee, after watching the news... any time I'm alone in my own head I've been mulling away at something. I've had a series of revelations over the summer. Some more poignant than others, but important all in their own way. I've stepped back from this space and I've given myself room to breathe - I've noticed it's such a healthy and necessary step for me to take for my own sanity. I just can't set expectations or deadlines for myself here. Not in this way. Plus, we all know how many deadlines there are in real life anyway... sigh.

One of the first things Erick and I realized after swinging the night away in a hammock, under the stars, wrapped in each others arms: remember the bigger picture. Seems easy enough, yet it's just so difficult for the two of us to grasp when we're amongst the trenches of every day moments. Especially in our own individual paths and careers - trust that everything is working out the way that it's meant to. In life when the tiniest moments seem to be causing the most grief - remembering this sliver of anguish doesn't come close to touching the abundance of all that is good, all that we have to be grateful for.

"We are very good at preparing to live, but not very good at living. We know how to sacrifice ten years for a diploma, and we are willing to work very hard to get a job, a car, a house, and so on. But we have difficulty remembering that we are alive in the present moment, the only moment there is for us to be alive" ~Thích Nhất Hạnh

We are just tiny specks in this universe. For as many times as we feel we are suffering or alone in our days, there are literally millions of others that have experienced a similar pain; more often, though, others have experienced much worse. The world is so much bigger than each of our tiny inhabited radiuses. I feel so silly sometimes getting up-in-arms about all of my meaningless anxieties and frustrations. I know, I'm only human. But in a global scale, truly, they do not matter.

Images taken on our trip to Mexico, February 2013.

Leaving Your Breastfeeding Co-Sleeping Toddler

If you haven't heard me talking about the crazy anxiety I had over leaving my girls for a weekend camping trip, you probably haven't seen me in a long, long time. It's all I ever talked about for the past few months! I was driving myself absolutely bonkers. It's been over a year - 14 months, to be exact - and Erick and I have never had even one night away from the girls. Until this past weekend, that is. 

Everything went perfectly. Imagine that. I find I often get myself more worked up than I need to be (worst-case scenarios, anyone?) and I fill my head with crazy thoughts to the point of insanity. It's important to me to share this story because if there is anyone else out there like I was, I know you'll be scouring the web for stories and experiences of other mamas that left their kids for a few days and needed the reassurance that everything was going to be okay. If my crazy nursling can handle the trip, I think anyone's can! Seriously. Alba is still nursing upwards of 5-8 times per day. Maybe more. Sometimes less. Honestly, I don't even count. She just comes and goes when she pleases, poking at my breasts with her index finger and saying "dis! dis!" over again as she crawls into my lap and nuzzles up to me. I flipping love it and I'm going to scream it from the rooftops! I've never been here before, nursing a toddler. It's all unchartered territory. And scary territory when you think about the possibility of messing that relationship up.

So, back to our trip.

Here's where I was at: I knew that we would be leaving Wednesday night and wouldn't be returning until Monday. Four nights without "bubbies" (nursing) and the comfort of the family bed as the girls slept. They split their time having outrageously fun sleepovers at both sets of their Grandparents.

They had the BEST time.

It's like we weren't even gone. (sheesh, thanks girls!) haaah. I guess it really is an out of sight, out of mind type deal. As soon as we returned, Sofia gave us a, "heeeeey! there you are!" and a giant hug while Alba jumped up and down like she couldn't believe it. The best part of leaving your loco kids is coming back and seeing them go loco over your return. It's the greatest feeling in the world. At fourteen months, Alba is nursing 'round the clock like a newborn again which I'm incredibly grateful for - she's bringing my supply back up after having to use my trusty pump while I was away. She didn't forget how to nurse, get mad at me, or go on strike... I could list more of what my mind was thinking, but I'll spare you the craziness and leave you with this...

Lesson learned:

Have faith.
Don't worry.
Take that trip.

Your securely attached children will survive.
(you can thank me later)