525,600 minutes, 525,000 moments so dear. 525,600 minutes – how do you measure,
measure a year? In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee. In
inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife. In 525,600 minutes – how do you
measure a year in the life?
I’ve been singing to Lucy a lot — I’d better get it in now before she is old enough to realize that I can’t carry a tune and/or be generally embarrassed of me (“Mo-ommmm!”) I’ve been wracking my brain to come up with things to sing her, and as it turns out I’ve been singing lots of show tunes. (Although – and it pains my high school drama-nerd self to say this – after spending so many hours back in the day belting out these tunes, I have now forgotten some of the lyrics! So I end up singing something along the lines of “In blah blah, in blah blah, in midnights in cups of coffee, in blah blah, in blah in laughter and strife…” Again, I need to get on the ball with this before she’s older (and also by then stop singing her some of the more risque numbers like “La Vie Boheme.”)
But I digress. The point of this post is about time and how I’m spending it in this glorious year, or rather half-year (262,300 minutes? Yes I used a calculator for that — don’t judge) of being home with Lucy. As a lawyer, the bane of my everyday work existence is the billable hour. Spending 7 years breaking everything down into 6 or 15-minute increments leads to a perverse mentality where you can start thinking of your entire day that way. (.75 hours, sat in traffic. .25 hours, looked enviously at peoples’ exotic vacation photos on Facebook…etc.) Yesterday (or rather today, at 3:30 a.m. when I was up feeding Lucy), I had the sudden realization that one of the reasons I’m so very happy and relaxed right now, despite the stresses / learning curve of having a newborn, is that since Lucy was born almost 7 weeks ago, I have not one single time measured my days by the billable hour. (That also may be why each day passes incredibly quickly and on some days it’s 1 p.m. and I haven’t managed to actually get out of my pajamas…but maybe that’s just me.)
In spit-up, in feedings, in onesies, in dirty diapers…
Having a baby is life-changing in so many ways that I will write about, many of them wonderful (how can you love this little person who you’ve only known a short time SO MUCH) some of them startling (how can you worry so obsessively over this little person who you’ve only known a short time), and some of them a bit depressing (where did my body go??) but this one is solidly in the awesome category. I definitely needed a reason to slow down and just BE. Thanks to little Lucy, that’s exactly what I’m doing.
Loving Lucy 
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