Reflections on two years of parenthood
Hi again 👋
Long time, no see. This summer got a little (a lot) stressful and this newsletter was unfortunately one of the casualties. I’m sure I’ll write about it more later once I’ve had time to process, but either way, we’re so back.
Over the next few months I’m also going to be working on updates around here and trying some new post formats, so thanks for sticking around while I experiment. I always love feedback so feel free to leave a comment if you see something you like or if there’s something else you’d like to see.
I hope you’ve had an incredible summer. Early fall is a difficult time of year for me but I’m looking forward to cozy days and hikes under the changing leaves.
Permission slip
My son turned two last week and at the risk of sounding like every other parent, I can hardly believe it. It feels like I was just writing this post about his first year and yet already that feels like a different lifetime. A year ago I was still holding a baby in my arms at the end of the night, and now he’s climbing on everything and chatting away every second of the day. I know that’s how it all works so why is it still such a shock when it happens to me?
The emotions I felt last August when he turned one were many: sadness, pride, excitement, heartache, and overwhelmingly, relief. The first year of parenthood felt like a big deal to have under my belt, not to mention I felt like I had almost finally made it through the most difficult year of my life—even more relief (and grief) would come two weeks later, on the one year anniversary of my brother’s passing.
While year one felt like the end of something and the beginning of something else, year two feels like a continuation. I couldn’t wait for the first year to be over but now I can’t stop wishing for time to slow down. I wanted one more day of him calling our dog “Aya” before he suddenly switched to “Maya.” I want one more summer of cuddling him under the stars in his tiny sleeping bag that I’m sure won’t fit next year. I want to hold his hand and show him how to pick raspberries off the bush for the first time again and again and again.
No one tells you that while you get more confident, so do they. And how incredibly bittersweet it is. While this year has been nearly as hard as the first one, just in very different ways, it’s incredible what time (and of course, not being extremely depressed) can do for my confidence in parenting. This year has taught me more about the power that I have in my career, in my role as a mother, in my relationships, and most importantly, in myself. It’s also taught me—or reminded me—that I’m never going to have a perfect little bubble in which to enjoy all the good moments without any of the stress or grief.
So maybe year two feels like a continuation, and everything feels like it’s happening so fast, and I have to balance and work through all the real life stuff. But it’s a continuation of childhood getting better and more fun every day, of eating popsicles on the front porch, of “mama I want to race,” of showing someone who’s never seen the world that it is so, so beautiful, despite the fact that it breaks my heart almost every day.
This month’s recs
The best books I read this summer: a romance, a thriller, and a lit fic.
Truly have not watched a single show this year other than season 3 of The Bear, but I cannot wait for fall reality tv.
Finally got truly sick of the water bottle/cup holder battle (I’m a late holdout) but had to stay loyal.
The aforementioned toddler’s second birthday gift is already a huge hit at our house—thank you grandma and grandpa.
One of my very favorite podcasters is back with a new show. I joined the Patreon and everything.
Thanks for reading. Would love to hear what topics you’d like to see me cover here the rest of the year if there’s anything on your mind. Alternatively, drop a link to your favorite slow cooker recipe because it’s that time of year.