Right now, I'm pretty tired. I mean, not like in the days immediately after giving birth. I've never been as tired as I was in those foggy postpartum days. Right now, it's a different tired. It's a dull, relentlessly nagging ACHE. I ache everywhere. My back, my legs, my arms. I'm fairly certain that I have tendonitis in both wrists - something called "mommy thumb" - which is preventing me from checking out a new local (in walking distance!) yoga studio. The single saving grace for my mind and body are our near daily, hour-long evening walks. It's not easy to get up and go so I'm grateful that Sergio pushes me to get out the door with him and Luca.
Exercise is not the only thing falling by the wayside these past few months. I feel like I've been cocooning with my child since we brought him home. It's been so easy to fall into the routine of feeding and naps, leaving everything else behind. Every morning I wake up to begin the day and the next thing I know, we're one feeding away from putting Luca down for the night again.
Time whispers by so easily, noiselessly. Luca is my vibrant center and everything else in my life seems hushed, muted and quiet, including myself. The other day I glanced in the mirror and realized I hadn't really looked at myself in days - more than a week (or weeks?). (I'm a hot mess BTW.) It's been a treat and a joy to lose myself during this time. But this can't go on forever. And that makes me sad because I've been so happy. I totally get how so many new parents seemingly drop out of society and blissfully settle into a new orbit around their children.
Photos by Nelson Lee