So far I can say that Miss M and little H have provided nothing in similarity as it concerns their first 4 weeks of life. I told my aunt yesterday that they both eat, sleep and poop (well, one did the last better than the other), but the patterns and “normal” for each of them were nothing alike. Those who have a bit more experience with motherhood tell me it’s par for the course and I do believe them. Though the second time around is a bit easier because you somewhat know what to expect – and therefore worry a bit less – it also provides an added twist in that you’re constantly sidestepping the pothole called “it wasn’t like this with the last one.”

And I can appreciate that each experience is different. We didn’t want to have multiple kids because we wanted to repeat the last performance; we wanted to have multiple kids because we love what a variety of personalities will bring to the table. We don’t want 4 of little H – we want one H and one M (and the last 2 will be up for discussion on a case-by-case basis).

While I do try to keep that perspective in mind, that little pothole is hard to avoid, and I credit it’s gravitational pull to my constant attempt to control things. I like order and rhythm – knowing what to expect. When I run, I take the same course – every. single. time. I know what to expect, what time I should be logging at this turn and how to compare it to previous and future performances. But learning a new kid is anything but order and meeting expectations.

I’ve noticed the same tendencies in my approach to each day. Sometimes I just want the day to go in order. Anything throwing it off is seen as an obstacle. But recently I’ve decided to try to rectify such thinking. The goal for the day isn’t to repeat the previous day’s affairs. The goal for the day is to experience all that it has to offer. But thinking that what happened yesterday is the best I, or she, or God has to offer is is to completely limit the possibilities. 

Yes, I know how to manage yesterday. I know what to expect. I can control it. But that’s not the goal – either for daily living or for raising children. I didn’t sign up for this race because I’ve already conquered it but rather because I wanted to see what every twist and turn would be like.

So here’s to an attempt to appreciate every hill and valley and to enjoy the scenery of the day, even if it’s different than that of yesterday or than what I had in mind when I rolled out of bed in the morning. It is still a grand opportunity to love and enjoy the gifts I’ve been given.