this green eyed hunk of love is seven months old somehow.

full moon in cancer. makes so much damn sense. I spent a good hour staring at a wall trying to talk myself out of depression, confusion, sadness, anxiety. All that time I was fighting the "you're over it!!!!" thoughts that I know we all get - even if we aren't over it. It's a battle and it's never over. we just take it day by day and find a little light every time. This girl makes for good light. Ps: we started cloth diapering yesterday 👌🏼

today was a day. she turns seven months old in four (three basically) more days, and her lil personality is BUDDING. she's strong willed, sassy, determined, and yet so tender. so sweet and shy and bashful. Sometimes I forget to soak in the sweetness of her growing. It's sometimes hard to remember when you're fighting her to take a bottle (which she won't do- mark today as my day of GIVING UP), or fighting her to latch onto my left breast (always a struggle, we always compromise), or whether she's skipped a nap to enjoy our walk around the neighborhood. Today it was all of those things at once. It gets hard, I get frustrated, and she gets sad. But I'm grateful to immediately check myself. I notice what's happening, take a breath, and relinquish all control. remind myself to just soak in the moment of her being tiny. of her being holdable. of her needing me so audibly and desperately. because some day I will miss this.

I write this from the total darkness of Olivia's bedroom. We are sitting in her rocking chair having a 10pm nursing session because that's what Monday nights look like for us. They're long and it's late and we both end up crying because our schedules don't mesh. For two years, I have taught the same 7:15, level 1 yoga flow. Students have come and gone over the years, and some very special ones have stayed. They're so special to me; we hug, laugh, and jive over the same successes and failures of our life and yoga practice - which makes it HARD for me to make this decision. I think that it's finally time I give it up. I leave at 6:45 for class at 7:15, and by the time class is over, I don't get back to O until 8:35. This is right in the middle of her bedtime, and she just doesn't do well without her usual nursing session. I'm lucky to have my dad always watch O while I'm teaching for two hours. But for the past month or two, every. single. Monday. that I come to pick her up, she's huffing and puffing in her sleep from screaming for the past hour and a half. My dads at his wits end, and I end up feeling guilty. Not to mention, Tyler doesn't even get to see me or Olivia until at least 10pm, and at that point, Olivia is ready to be transferred to bed and he's ready to pass out. On Mondays I am left tired, I am left hungry, guilty, and longing for more pillow talk with Ty before he spontaneously zonks out mid conversation (how do guys do that?...) So BEAR WITH ME. Things are changing, gearing up for the new year, I presume. And I just had to come here to write it all out.

today was a day. today was poop puddled in our car seat, breastfeeding while sitting on a target toilet for lack of a chair, rocking your baby until you're both sweating and crying because you ate something that made her unbearably gassy. today was popping a boob in her mouth just to give you both a break. today was drinking a glass of wine and then thanking God for gas drops because your baby has now been sleeping for four hours. I can't put her down because I feel like these cuddles are my reward.

I literally never use tumblr unless I'm stalking my girlfriends ( @saintcurvy or @apricotpeachpear ) and even then it's only every few weeks - but now I have so many pictures of such a tiny girl who I grew and continue to nurture now that she's in the world that I need a place to store and share them. maybe this blog isn't this place, but this is a good start! also to all of you who forgot I existed, HI ! ✨