It'a 4AM, and I really should be sleeping, but after a particularly refreshing 4 1/2 hour stretch of sleep the creative portion of my brain has been reignited and I feel an overwhelming desire, even need, to write. I've laid unsuccessfully trying to turn off the flood of words, but as blog post after blog post has formed in my mind, it's become apparent that unless I get up and get some of these thoughts out, I'm doomed to only four and a half hours of sleep tonight, again. The questions is, where to begin?

Today, well yesterday, I guess, considering the hour, marked three weeks since Anders was born. It's been a whirlwind of emotions and experiences. It occurred to me that there is a reason why they schedule your postpartum visit for six weeks after birth- because it takes that long before one, your body is completely healed; and two, your emotions have leveled out enough to be significant. With Scotland, and now with Anders, I felt a desire to receed from the world for a bit after birth. I feel guilty about this. I keep feeling like I need to “re-enter” life, and yet I have a real desire not to. Rather, I want to turn off my phone and e-mail, lock my door and cuddle up with my baby for a few weeks. I suppose those weeks have passed because as of now (which, considering my hormones, this sentiment will change by morning) I'm itching to take my first post-baby run, to plan a couple of sisters' weekends, and to go hiking with my hubs. I have to keep reminding myself of that six week appointment, the marker for a typical full recovery. The last few days I've started to feel more “normal.” But again tonight, after spending much of the morning outside enjoying the sunshine and my parents' ranch with Scotland, picking him up for hugs and piggy backs, and then going on a shopping excursion with Anders, my stitches have announced their continued presence and demand for attention and care. I suppose that run is a few weeks off.

I'm at my folks' house, having come up to hear my younger sister, Dantzel, solo with the youth orchestra on Sunday. The timing couldn't have been better as it coincided with the tail end of Scotland's illness (and perpetual crankiness and obstinance), and the full duration of Anders' case of bronchialitis. After a few nights of only splatterings of sleep I wondered if I hadn't better send the baby back, as my ability to cope with two children seemed dismal. My mother, capable as ever, swept in and has been a huge support. Being here has reminded me of the importance of family. It feels so right to have grandparents around to hug a child here, read to a child there- filling in when I can't be there. I felt like a daughter again this week, needy and inexperienced. My mother, ever able to take on more, has graciously stayed up nights with Anders or attended to mornings with Scotland, encouraging me to sleep when I could. Each night as I've handed her my baby and headed off to bed, I've been reminded of her love for me and felt again like her “little girl.” A few nights ago, unbeknowst to me, Scotter was up until 1AM with an ear ache. (I'd been sent to bed early in hopes of catching a few hours of continuous sleep.) Only the next morning did I hear the sweet tale of two loving grandparents. My Mom had gone down countless times to comfort him, and then my Dad had held him in his arms and rocked him, finally saying a prayer that the pain would ease, and he would be able to sleep. Scotland immediately calmed and fell asleep. He awoke a few times during the night and cried out, at which point my Dad, who was sleeping on the couch near him, assured him of his presence and Scotland fell back asleep. My independant/prideful side is a bit embarrassed at the amount of help I have required since being here. I've felt humbled and grateful at how graciously my parents have cared for my little family at a time of need.

Today, Scotter was himself again- bright eyed, happy and content, and Anders, after I cleared out a bunch of nasal congestion, finally napped and nursed normally. After an intense few days where Anders had to be held constantly and Scotter demanded more patience and love that I felt I had, it was wonderful to realize that when things are “normal” and both boys aren't sick, having two, though challenging, is do-able.

It's nearly 5:00 now, and while my mind is still racing with things I “need to say” it feels irresponsible to stay up all night writing when I'll have boys needing my attention in the morning. So, I'll bid you adieu, and hope to return soon.