No... not these Friends.... though I have to admit I love the footwear. Must pick some up before that pole-dancing class.....
A man's character may be learned from the adjectives which he habitually uses in converstaion.
At 9:03 on the morning of Monday, January 17, 2011, Avery wasn't the only person being born: I was being reborn as a mother, though I didn't realize it at the time. Over the next few weeks, my old identity faded away as we went together through the process of learning how to survive in this world. It was tough: we had to take it one day, one hour, one minute, sometimes one second and one colicy scream at a time, but we made it. And now there's a precious little girl rolling around and trying to blow raspberries at my feet.
And once the dust settled, I looked in the mirror and didn't recognize the woman staring back at me. Tax deadlines and fudge recipes no longer held a candle to the new most important things in my life. Poop in the bed isn't a catastrophe - just another load of laundry. As far as Avery is concerned, I'm the best playmate, rocker, changer, bather, and lullaby singer around, and that's all I need.
Or is it?
They say it takes a village to raise a baby, but I believe it also takes a village to raise a mother.
So, without realizing it, I had to enlist the help of my friends to re-figure-out who I was. I started with my veteran friends who had been through this before: my girls who already have a few little ones of their own and still seem to be relatively normal. They reminded me that my life won't forever revolve around feeding times and naps.
From there I unconsciously branched out on a mission to reestablish my identity, and looking back on the past few months, I realize I've learned and gained so much from the girls around me. From not settling for anything than the best, to the fact that skiing is just like riding a bike, to rediscovering the joy of a recipe well-executed, they have unwittingly settled me into a much more well-rounded (pardon the pun) person. And in the process, I remembered who I was before this whirlwind named Avery came along.
Friends who remind me to keep it real and oh-so-stylish with a great sense of humor.
Friends who let me be myself and goof around. (Avery is pea-green with envy in this photo.)
Friends who will pray with us.
Friends with whom I could share the triumph over a 10-pound bundle of screaming once she finally passed out for that nap.
Friends who reminded me to be true to my roots and to myself and how to laugh loudest of all.