Two weeks ago tonight, Kiri was born in all her sweetness and beauty and perfection. And it seems as though I’ve always known her, as though our lives before her advent were missing her presence.
But at the same time, this week I’ve discovered that she has two cowlicks. And only tonight did I notice that she might be the only one of our children to inherit my toes. And it appears that her eyes are turning blue, blue, blue.
She’s laying on my lap as I type this, wide awake and waving her arms and stretching her legs or quietly looking. When she wants to talk, I turn from the computer and we have a nice little chat until her attention turns elsewhere. She loves to talk, with love filled eyes, and she loves to smile.
Usually her evening conversation partner is Pappie. It’s their special time, where I look on and marvel at how already she has formed different relationships with each of us. She lights up for him, with bright and starry eyes.
We are approaching normal with a slow but steady pace. We went for a walk today and I noticed that the peculiar post-birth side to side sway in my stride is almost gone. I’m craving exercise. What looked and felt svelte and slender to me two weeks ago now feels flabby and dumpy and in a state of atrophy.
Devo returns to work soon. I must gather my courage about me. Certainly I must give myself permission for slow days, while at the same time providing the ‘big kids’ with enough structure to keep up the rhythm of their days. More energy needed.