you can't do it all

If this week has taught me anything, it is that you (the figurative you meaning all mothers, including Heidi Klum and Angelina and all others who seem to have everything together) truly cannot have it all. Most days, I think I do. And I'm right. But I have (1) a husband whose hours are really great who works partly from home; (2) lots of family help, without which I would be lost; (3) a relatively flexible job and a one-mile commute; and, most importantly, (4) a pretty easy little girl, of whom I am just proud to death. This feeling of pride is rather new, actually, especially considering all her accomplishments: walking, talking, eating, smiling....

Those accomplishments, certainly huge, have been more inevitable achievements than sources of pride for me. She was going to walk, crawl, and feed herself. She was not necessarily, however, going to be a darling little girl at the hospital for 7 hours, half the time hooked up to and IV. Other non-inevitable wonders: she is pleasant every single morning, she is a joy at school and gets a great report every day, she is friendly and sweet and just a good mini-friend to have around for company. Her progress amazes me daily: talking nonstop, using her silverware almost all the time, counting, dancing, spinning, sliding. Some nice recent moments:

• always asking where everyone is. She'll look at me, raise her hands up, squint her eyes, shrug her shoulders, and ask, "Nana?"
• sees the pictures of Bert in her Sesame Street book and calls him "Pops." HA!
• A long time ago we tried to teach her "peace," as in, hold up your two fingers and say "peace." It didn't really take at the time, but now it seems that it has. If you hold up your fingers to count, she'll say, "one, peace, three, peace, five...." Apparently four is double-peace.
• lots of funny little words, "anya" for "orange," "doo doo" for "toby" (the toby I do not get because she can say all the sounds of his name)
• so creative and imaginative... putting all her friends down for naps and reading them a book, fake eating and drinking out of her tea set, constantly rearranging her furniture, putting on some music when she is ready to dance

Anyway, I rambled past my original point. I'm tired. And lucky. This week has been like having a newborn again. I have been up half the night, carrying Annie everywhere, picking up puke, worrying. Imagine if I didn't have an Annie and I had someone more difficult. What if I were doing this all myself? It is truly amazing what mothers accomplish every day and I thank Annie for putting everything back into perspective for me this week. sorry for the sap and the ramble.