Most things get easier with the second child. But milestone birthdays? Nuh-uh.
I am utterly gutted that Layla is turning one next week.
Just a minute ago, we were celebrating her ability to lift her sumo butt up to crawl and all of a sudden she’s standing like a boss, and teasing us by letting go of the furniture every now and then.
As I scroll down the baby annals (i.e. iPhone photo stream), I mourn the loss of my floppy, michelin baby and her multitude of folds. Her koala bear hugs are quickly being replaced by exploding bursts of energy of the lunge-and-leap kind. Those vacant baby stares are now laser beams of disapproval at my motherly inadequacy: “You left me in my crib to sleep? How DARE you.”
And don’t even get me started on Julian. I sometimes place my hand over his during our morning drive to school. What used to be a gesture he would reciprocate with chubby fingers curling into mine has now turned into a tween cliché – HE BRUSHES MY HAND AWAY. Without even as much as a glance at his horrified mother. I mean. My eldest is literally slipping through my fingers, you guys. And he’s not even three!
*Insert Distraught and Inconsolable Cry Face Emoji here X 10*
Ahem. Now that I’ve gotten that out of my system: To be fair, it has been a busy 6 months since my last blog post. And in mummy-baby years, that’s a LONG time.
When I try to playback the moments, I get: toothy dribbly grins, dancing babies, sibling rivalry, stressful transitions, giggles upon giggles, great family vacations, crying fits and challenging illnesses. In short, pretty much the same tumultuous peaks and valleys of any household with young children.
So I try to focus on the good bits and burn them into memory.
There really has been a lot to be thankful for and proud of. Surviving a job transition at 6-months postpartum. Overcoming poor health (both kids and adults). Finding a good helper. Gaining a beautiful niece. Children who are hitting their milestones and finding their rhythm and roles as siblings. Not to mention, trading in the marathon nursing and vacant infant stares for marginally more sleep and way more fun toddler interaction.
For now, my kids still need me – especially for toileting and toys. I hold a good job and the grandparents are healthy. I still have my husband. And one good ear.
If those aren’t reasons to celebrate and cherish the now, I don’t know what are.