It’s been a week since Cricket came into our lives, and to say that things have changed is an understatement.
In short, everything is infinitely more challenging with two littles to care for, and unfortunately the world around us moves on as if nothing has changed — meaning that Ryan’s work has resumed (welcome to being self-employed!) and that I spent a couple days and nights being a single mom of two this week already. There’s been little sleep, few moments of mental clarity and lots of Disney Junior to get us through, and it feels like I’ve been too busy for those wondrous, elated moments of reflection that I was able to indulge in when we first brought Emma Vance home. I miss those moments, but the everyday to-dos demand my attention…until it’s 1 p.m.
There’s a concept in photography of “the golden hour,” that last bit of warm, glowing light that casts a sparkly glow over the earth just before the sun sets at night. This particular time of day makes for amazing pictures; there’s something that feels almost magical about it and that sense of calm and warmth translates into images beautifully. For me, the golden hour around here is 1 p.m.
At one o’clock each day the stars align in my favor; it’s the hour where everyone naps at the same time, where the mailman and UPS man don’t bother us, where the trash trucks and school buses are nowhere within ear shot, where the dogs settle into their beds and the girls do the same. It also happens to be the time of the best lighting in our master bedroom; the sun filters in through the trees, illuminating our windows just enough to cast a sleepy glow into the room. Today was no exception. When 1 p.m. rolled around, despite a busy morning taking newborn pictures (for which Cricket was an angel and Emma Vance was a wild child), everyone promptly passed out on cue; it was as if a sleepy spell was cast on Amityville, and everyone gently drifted off to sleep in unison, regardless of where they were. Kit passed out on our master bed in her swaddling cloth from the shoot and was so peaceful that I didn’t have the heart to move her. Instead I just laid down to rest my eyes on the opposite side of the bed, reveling for the first time this week in the sweetness of this phase and my family.
There is something about moments of calm amidst the busyness of the everyday that remind us of how precious life is. I’m desperate not to just survive these first few crazy months of adjustment; I’m desirous of these bits of silence where my mind can drift and reflect and rejoice. For me, one o’clock may necessitate rest or freedom or chores, but my greatest hope is that each day it will be my hour to revel in the joy of the life around me — my own personal golden hour where the peacefulness of my family all blissfully asleep feels almost magical, where that sense of calm and warmth translates into memories quite beautifully…
