Musings of Jazzy

The only thing constant is change



9 O’clock

When 9:00 p.m. approaches, I am blissfully aware of the “me time” ahead. Yes, being a new parent is wonderful, all-consuming and wonderful. But after a full day of diapers, bottles, sticky messes, and crying taking up every inch of your mental and physical space…I embrace the time. When that time approaches I am relieved to be able to sit down, relax, and let the gentle hum of the ceiling fan drown out the clutter in my head. I dim the lights, and prepare for the night.

It is a time for reflection, salty snacks, good reads, and cooking shows. My little one sleeps, sleeps so soundly…and I should probably be sleeping too. This, is impossible my friends. Like I said, this is “me time”. Yes, the clothes in the dryer probably should be folded, the dishes in the sink should probably get cleaned. I tried desperately during the day to finish these tasks, but to no avail, they were not completed.

My mind ventures off to far away places. Even at 30, I sometimes feel I have the imagination of an 8-year-old. I go places, beautiful fictional places full of music, color, and light. Sometimes these places are just my past, my childhood past. The house has cooled down by now after being scorched by the sun for hours. The trees in the backyard are nothing but black silhouettes. I close the blinds, nobody wants to feel vulnerable. What is it about glass doors and night?

I glance over at my sleeping child and am overcome by nostalgia. I remember so vividly being a child, filled with innocence and hopefulness. I remember the smells, even though I am unable to tell you what exactly they were. I remember the comfort in a hug. It’s all very overwhelming, looking at my child and knowing that he will be experiencing these feelings as well. What will his imagination be like? Will he pretend to fly over the town at night as I did? Watching the town lights twinkle, and all the homes dimming theirs? Will he play in the dirt in the backyard with no regards to the soil under his fingernails?Will he be able to eat berries off the vine until his face is half covered in blackberry jam?

These thoughts come almost nightly, at 9 o’clock. Thoughts still full of wonder and hope. Not hope for me, but hope for him, my sleeping child.



 We all need a place to travel to when we get that feeling to just “ get away”. Whether this place is physical or not, it can still be considered…somewhere. I have a couple of places I venture to when my mind is feeling cluttered and a little overwhelmed. They are fictional places that they are made up from the fabric of my imagination; but, nevertheless they are still destinations…in my mind. I am still not too sure as to why I choose certain destinations over other’s, all I know is that It depends on my mood.  And while being on this new adventure called parenthood, I definitely need a place to go, with just…myself.
For example, when I feel like I desperately need to relax I find myself on the top of a hill during the twilight hours. This hill is always the tallest in comparison to its surrounding neighbors, it is always covered in wisps of emerald green grass. Grass that can only be made by the stroke of a paint brush. The air is crisp, jasmine and orange blossoms fill my senses. Majestic thin trees act as a partial fence between my safe place and the darkness beyond the horizon.The sky is always a shade lighter than sapphire blue, and it’s texture is a mixture of blue velvet and water colors. The sound of crickets always surround me, along with the gentle “ding” of a wind chime ever so often.
 When stress or anxiety starts to creep up on me I find myself usually in a forest surrounded by fragrant vibrant flowers accompanied by the sounds of nature.  Running water is close, and the wind always has just the right amount of chill. The trees act as a canopy of entangled branches; they take on the appearance of soft willows. The stems and leafs are always glistening as if they are made up of hundreds of tiny diamonds.
 These snapshots, these “places” are calming and beautiful to me. To some they may seem to be only colorful paintings or elaborate settings in a fantasy novel; but to me, they are just simple destinations. Where are your destinations?

“What I Didn’t Expect”

When they say to expect the unexpected they mean it. I expected to be exhausted,I expected all the uninvited advice. I expected to be filled to the brim with love…
What I didn’t expect was the constant worry, protectiveness, and fear of the unknown. I didn’t expect the loneliness, even though I had my husband helping out every step of the way. I didn’t expect to cry almost every night after my husband went to bed because he needed to be up at 2:45 in the morning for work. I didn’t expect to feel so alone, even though he was only sleeping in the next room. I didn’t expect my home to feel so unfamiliar to me the days after giving birth. I felt like I was placed in an alternate universe, that my home was just a set, and I was playing a role in some strange sitcom. I recognized my bed, my couch, my kitchen, the sheets I slept in days prior to going into labor. But even through my attempt to grasp these things, this familiarity, and to find myself again…I could not. My environment had changed completely, everything was forever changed.
I didn’t expect to worry about this tiny human being for every second of every day. I didn’t expect to wake up with my heart pounding out of my chest to the single sound of my baby hiccuping in his sleep. I didn’t expect that during the first few weeks my baby would literally be an extension of me, I would have to learn to eat, make a bottle, and prop a pillow under me all one handed, while holding a screaming newborn.
I didn’t expect how gut wrenching the sound of your child’s cries could shake you to your core. I didn’t expect that sometimes your baby can’t just be “soothed”, that it takes more than that, and sometimes it takes hours. I didn’t expect the exhaustion to be so overwhelming that at times, my frustration and irritability levels would be through the roof. I didn’t expect the guilt for feeling that way.
What I didn’t expect the most was the up and down whirlwind of emotions. And the ability for your baby’s smile to change your mood completely. I didn’t expect to be filled with so much pride, joy, and bliss when looking into his eyes. I didn’t expect to feel so blessed, scared, sad, overjoyed, and content all at the same time. I didn’t expect how NON routine a baby is, and how you cannot fit this tiny human into a schedule at all times. I didn’t expect to see so much change in such a short period of time…
What I know to expect now, is to understand that the only thing constant in this life is CHANGE. And it is our ability to ADAPT that can define us in a moment. And in this moment, I am embracing it all… the good moments, the scary moments, and the quiet moments.

Blog at

Up ↑