Baby Girl had her two month immunizations today. Saying it gets easier with each child sounds horrible, but I can remember how much I cried with my first when we did this. It was awful. He cried and I cried. I really feel like it’s almost better for them when I can hold it together. She was upset for a bit but I think I had enough of a reassuring voice and calm demeanour and she was okay after a minute. Or, the more likely scenario in which I receive no credit – she’s one tough cookie.
A cliche that will never not be true, but is especially apparent for me during the newborn phase – time FLIES. I absolutely love the newborn phase, it’s my favourite. I know a lot of people find it one of the most difficult times and I truly respect that. I have been so fortunate to not experience colic, mixing of night and days, or anything of that sort with my newborns so my experience has always been short and sweet. Knowing this is my last child is giving all the warm and fuzzy, taking-it-all-in, type of feelings and emotions. The joy and excitement I had when my first grew out of a size and into the next one up has been replaced with a soft sigh of mourning. I won’t put a Newborn sized sleeper or diaper on one of my own children ever again. At eight weeks, baby girl has grown right out of those tiny adorable little outfits, as she maintains her curve at the 93%ile for height.
Going from zero to one child is such an adjustment. It shakes up your whole world and transforms you and everything you do. Having to think about and accommodate for this little person who has come into your world before you literally do anything is a transformative experience. It feels overwhelming but also manageable… once you get the hang of it. Going from one child to two, at least for me, was a whole new learning curve. You think, during the transition from zero to one, that you have no time. Then you have a second child and realize you did have time but now you actually don’t have time. The sense of carefree-ness (is that a word?) that comes with the third child, that knowledge that you already don’t have time, almost makes the transition easier. There are no expectations. I know I don’t have time for myself. I know this is just a season. I know this will be over in the blink of an eye and the addition of 47 more grey hairs. (Where did those come from? Do they change overnight or are they gradually growing in and I’m not noticing? When was the last time I reallllly looked in the mirror anyway? Oh well, not my time.)
With the third you have the experience and knowledge and release of expectations that, I think, make the whole experience much easier. I was so nervous about the addition of another human into our lives. How would we handle being out numbered? But, it honestly has been the most seamless flow of events. She’s here. Hasn’t she always been? I’m sure my middle would beg to differ. If he were writing this I’m sure the theme would be: how a new baby stole all of my mother’s time. She hasn’t really though. I try so hard to still give him the time he needs, and I think it’s a good lesson for him to learn, but it doe still hurt my mama heart, which is why as I write this now, he lays next to me in our bed, asleep, where he’s been sleeping for the last few weeks. Where all the children were sleeping at 3 am last night. I don’t even worry about it now. I have released the tracking apps and the timers for crying. I don’t listen to anyone who tells us how they SHOULD sleep and I don’t force them to do or be anywhere they don’t want. I know none of this will last long, and soon they’ll be willingly off in their own rooms, like my four year old was at 4 am last night after a few hours of cuddles with us all.
Anyway, whilst I hosted all the children in my bed last night, Matt was driving home through a blizzard after picking up his father from the airport. His dad had missed his original flight and ended up arriving late at night, in a storm, and unfortunately that left them getting in at 4 am – a longggg drive from the 11 pm airport arrival. School was cancelled, naturally, as the roads were dangerous. We had a good day outside playing. I swear my oldest got a full thousand hours outside today alone. He changed his snowsuit several times, in and out, exchanging wet clothes for dry, before going back to make an igloo with our neighbours kid. I loved watching him play, they built snowman and buried each other in the snow. He was so worn out tonight he fell asleep with the light on and books in hand as he waited for me to come say goodnight. A precious scene I won’t soon forget.
Now let’s see what tomorrow brings.
— R