The Rookie Mama

Holy crawdaddies, does it ever pile up fast. Clothing, towels, bedding - a mound that grows ever higher regardless of how many times (a week..a day!) you do laundry. The satisfying feeling of emptying the hamper is itself hampered by the drooly bibs and blowout onesies that quickly fill in the gaps. I didn't mind laundry that much before; unlike washing dishes or vacuuming, it was a chore I was happy to do. But with the addition of just one tiny extra person in our family, we are suddenly doing loads nearly every day. She's so small! It doesn't make any sense!  Even though the overall amount of laundry in the basket remains the same, it takes twice as long to fold and put away because the items are so tiny. After the baby shower, you wash and dry these adorable pieces of clothing. You giggle at the wee little socks you're folding, then you stack neatly organized piles inside a dresser so new you can nearly smell the pine. Six months in, the cuteness (sort of) remains

I wake to the sound of her babbling. No distress, no anxiety, certainly no crying. Just her - talking to herself or perhaps to the animals hanging on her mobile. This is how she greets every morning. I listen for awhile, trying to shake the sleep from my own head. I wonder at the adorable sounds coming from the crib, and how just a few weeks ago she was not able to control her voice this way. Now there are giggles, happy shrieks, and frustrated grumblings. Just a few months in, and she is communicating with us. I peek over the side of the crib and say good morning; she turns to look at me and a huge smile stretches across her tiny face. She giggles and rolls side-to-side as I reach down to pick her up. I hold her against me and she nestles into my shoulder. She pulls her head back to look at me and we smile at each other. Recognition. She cannot yet call me "mama" nor can she tell me she loves me. But that smile, every morning without fail, tells me she knows who I am