It’s getting to be crunch time, folks. Tomorrow I will have another checkup, putting us a week closer to Little Pea’s arrival. Tonight, the inversion table was finally moved out of the nursery to make room for actual baby stuff. Last week I did loads of infant laundry and there are still boxes of clothes and breastfeeding bottles to wash. There are still lots of things on my to do list, though, and a bit of anxiety is finally starting to creep in; this kid is coming soon and we have yet to buy an infant car seat, find Connor’s old footie onesies, and generally prepare the house for the arrival of our new arrival. But, we will all be fine regardless of the state of our house or the laundry and dish piles. We have family down the street, convenience stores down other streets, and at least a smidge of know-how (and the internet) to help Little Pea survive and thrive.
I’m feeling less anxious about how Connor will react to his little brother. Every night he gives my belly a smattering of kisses and at least one hig before bedtime. The other night he put a small hand on each side of my belly and gave a little squeeze while saying “Smooshie smooshie.” He has been offering his little brother food and cars and asking him to come out and play. I’m fully expecting battles over time and toys, but that, too, will pass. At this point, aside from relearning breastfeeding and the tricks to sleep training, one of my bigger concerns is what to do with an infant in the middle of winter. Connor and I took countless walks outside; I wouldn’t be so bold in January. Any ideas?
While Little Pea continues to grow, we continue to marvel at ‘Rado’s intellectual and verbal advances. The kid is a trip. Over the past few nights after we’ve put him to bed, he’s been reciting a stream of “Good night, Mom and Dad and Blue Boy’s” and “Love you, Mom and Dad and Blue Boy’s” until the door to his room is completely closed. Even after that, he has to get one more “Good night” or “Love you” in like the guy who has to have the last clap at the end of a performance (oh god, he IS like his dad). He declares that “I have a big problem” when he pushes one of his cars out of his reach or rolls a ball under the bed. He will try to disarm an encroaching tickle monster by smiling and saying, “Hi, Mom” or “Hi, Dad.” Kids can be so cool.
My mind in this post is a microcosim of what I imagine life will be like with two kids – constantly bouncing between thoughts and activities and issues between the two of them. Will it mean double the guilt, heartache, and headaches? Hopefully just one-and-a-half times all of that. Although, I’ve heard it’s more like four times all that. Regardless, it will be my guilt, heartache, headache, love, and life to own. I’m looking forward to it. It will be nice to embrace it and hold something close after months of expanding distance between my arm span and the things I love.