Love explosions

For the 6 months just past, I had been working from home for three days of every week. I was to fill 8 hours worth of work each Monday, Wednesday and Friday. And I was to complete those 8 hours worth of work within business hours as much as possible. In those 8 hours I was also to be a present, loving and doting Mama and a domesticated house wife in order to keep myself and Anthony and our home happy. I was to serve breakfast, lunch and dinner to a demanding Evelyn, as well as snacks, nappy changes, nap time and reading, play time. I was to prepare dinner for Anthony and I (I was however lucky enough that on most nights Anthony would cook the meal and do the post dinner clean up). In amongst all of this, I was to somehow feed myself, shower and clean myself, look after my health and somehow my happiness.

Each and every week, I didn't think I would survive another. But then the weekend would come, and I would relax, I would spend time with my family, I would find my happiness again and by Monday I would think, "I can do this". Until Friday arrived and I would consider my resignation, yet again. This became our normal, our awful, dreaded, weekly routined normal. But... somehow, I survived. I completed that 6 month contract. And, I actually got everything done. So much so that my last 2 weeks were spent asking for more work to do. 

I felt a sense of pride, going back to work and surviving it. Bringing in some much needed money all whilst still taking care of our Daughter. However, I feel so much guilt and I feel that both Evelyn and I were deprived of some very special times. We spent too much time indoors. I spent too much time being frustrated at her, for just... needing me. I felt angry with her for no reason other than she wanted a cuddle. I put that job before her. I let that job make me feel emotions towards her that I otherwise never would have felt!

So, since the day I handed in my computer and signed the end of my 6 month contract, three weeks ago, I have been creating a new normal, making sure I spend every day with Evelyn. Giving her my all. Giving her everything she wants from me, everything she needs. With each cuddle she requests, I open my arms and I embrace her. With each book she presents, I sit and read until she begs me to stop. With each cry or complaint or laugh she sounds, I run to her side and aid her request. 

Now that I am able to celebrate each and every moment of Evelyn, without other commitments intruding on our time, my heart has just exploded with love and my heart has also ached with a little despair. How much I missed out on, whilst staring at that computer screen. But how much I am now gaining. The bond between us has doubled in strength. My understanding of her and her language is now unbelievable. The fun we have, the wrestles, the reading, the airplanes, the cuddles, the kisses and most importantly the learning. Her learning new words, me learning her words. Her watching the world and me seeing it for all its glory through her eyes. She has so much to learn, and so much to teach me. 

Over the past week especially, there have been moments where she has melted my heart with her incredible love, so much so that I have cried. Such happy tears. Such love. Such fire I feel for her and her, obviously, for me. Each and every night Anthony does the "ni-night" routine by dressing her in her pajamas and giving her, her sleepy suit. She brings the suit to me and I lay it out on the ground where she promptly lays and patiently waits for me to zip her up. As I do so, Anthony prepares her night time bottle. She runs, from me to him, in her sleepy suit, yelling "bauble, bauble". Anthony takes her hand and asks, "Wheres Mr Rabbie?", and as her beloved Rabbie adventures all through out the day by her side, he could be most any where! We all spend the next 5 minutes searching for Rabbie and once he is found she squeals in the most divine show of delight there ever was. She and I say our good nights and give our cuddles,  Anthony starts to walk her up the hallway to bed. I shout out after her, "I love you", she turns, she runs to me, her lips puckered and her eyes swollen with pure love for her Mama, I take her wee little head between my hands and I give her the biggest, sloppiest, most loving kiss I can possibly muster. She looks at me and she nods and she turns and walks herself back to her Dadda and into her bedroom where they share secrets that only a Daddy and his girl will ever know. And in that moment I know that my world is right. 

And then I cry. 

Because I am living a life that even my dreams couldn't give me.