Transition.

 
There are so many moments as our family adjusts to it's 1/3 increase in size that I feel how dramatically this foursome is changing us all.  I feel how quickly every routine, schedule and reliable moment of our lives has quickly shifted.  And what is that shift exactly?  And how are we different?  And how do we make the same time and space for individuality in all of that? 

The most needy person in this shift is, of course, Cecilia.  While, yes, she welcomes her baby brother, and exhibits pride and love and caring and comforting; I can also see how much she's struggling.  There are so many daily moments that feel like we're walking a tightrope. 

I am quite aware of her searching for the balance in life once again, for we're each just a little off track right now.  We're each floundering about trying to feel a morning, trying to understand filling everyone's needs at once, feeling around to see how it is that we each fit together exactly now that there are more of us.  Simple tasks take longer.  How do we all get in the car?  How to do we make and eat breakfast with a baby attached to me?  How do we fold the laundry, make the bed, brush our teeth, take a shower, go to the bathroom?  And how do our children each stay contented through all of these operations?  How do we all remain balanced?

As we awaken from our joyful bliss bubble, we walk straight in to a bog where we do not know the answers anymore.  Luckily we have a very bright lantern.  And quite thankfully our mud boots are warm.  For as many unknowns as there are to find answers to, and hours of sleep lost, and moments spent with a movie instead of a parent.  There are also baby dimples, playdough cakes, friends with open arms, hugs and kisses and tickles, and quiet morning snuggles with the sweetest family I've ever known.