Six weeks.

Anyone living in Middle Tennessee can attest to how amazing today was. Because we've been through a lot of gray this past few months. It's been freakishly cold, incessantly snowy. And we have no room to complain, probably. So many people have it worse weather-wise.

But today, finally, the sun came out (and stayed out!). I can walk to the Greenway, our city's walking trail, from my backyard, and I was joined by countless other Murfreesborians today, itching to get out of their hibernations.

The weather has made this already isolating first few months even worse. When you wake up and open the blinds on your tenth day of being stuck indoors with an unpredictable newborn and the only light that comes through is murky and sad, you feel the same.

We walked two miles today with Jason's mom. That's the most movement I've done in about ten months, thanks to the planet that was my belly. My legs are sore, my feet are sore. I desperately need a shower but Adelyn is still awake and in a good mood, so it'll have to wait.

It's amazing what some sunshine can do for your mood. Nothing's really changed in my life throughout the past week to put me in such a significantly better mood, except for the sunshine. I was still woken up by a screaming baby alarm clock at five this morning, and I almost threw in the towel on leaving the house at all, ever, after the obstacle course that was my six-week doctor's appointment this morning. It was my first time getting out of the house with Adelyn by myself, with the stroller, all the way to Nashville. My appointment was at 11. It takes about 45 minutes to get to Nashville from Murfreesboro. At 10, I was still feeding Adelyn; she had a dirty diaper; I was still in my pajamas with a two-day old ponytail. I hadn't had a chance to eat breakfast, or even pee.

A few rounds of tears later (hers and mine), we miraculously made it out the door. And we were only 20 minutes late--thankfully to an appointment with a doctor surely used to the new-mother scramble.

There's just so much crap that comes along with a newborn. And not breastfeeding makes it worse, since I can no longer whip out my boob at a moment's notice to ease her cries. Bottles have to be cleaned and made and warmed and strollers have to be folded and unfolded and carried. And I know it won't really get any easier, I'll just eventually get used to the schlep.

But then we spent the rest of the day outside, and that made it all a little better.

And after her Janu pulled her out of the stroller so she could see the day for herself: