You are 6 weeks and 1 day old today.
A couple months ago I wrote you a letter about normal. I wrote about how you would be arriving soon, so soon, and how my very normal days would soon be totally different very normal days.
Earlier today we went to the grocery store, you and I. It’s a million degrees outside and my car had been roasting all morning in the sun so I put you down in your swing and ran outside to pre-cool the car. Back inside I grabbed my cell phone and an extra burp cloth, hit refresh on my Inbox, glanced inside the diaper bag and yup, I did remember to restock the wipes, strapped you into your car seat, walked the dog into her kennel, grabbed my keys, confirmed no new emails had come in that needed attention, and we were off.
45 minutes later, driving home, I realized that, oh my gosh, this is my new normal. Actually, I take that back. I realized that the very first day we brought you home. Today I realized that my new normal was now…normal.
I didn’t worry or think thrice about the diaper bag contents and I didn’t try to pretend I could time your sleep or fussiness schedule with our grocery store trip and I didn’t give a thought to what might happen if you decided to scream in the middle of aisle 4. I just did it. You and I just did it.
It took me six weeks to get here, this normal New Normal with you by my side. Our very normal days of eating and pooping (on your part) and emailing and reading (on my part) and snuggling and fussing (for both of us). Our very normal days of sending photos to Grandmommy and making calls to Vemma friends and figuring out why even your freshly laundered clothes still smell like spit-up and writing for the Prairie. Our so very normal days. Today. These days. Now.
So very normal is now a better so very normal than it used to be. In every possible way.
Cheers to celebrating another so very normal day tomorrow, little one.
For more in the Dear Babygirl series: Letters to my Daughter