parenting

The Transition

/ Katie / Leave a comment

I’ve heard so many times that the transition from one to two children is the hardest, no matter how many kids you end up with. I think I finally believe those people. Having two kids is like trying to landscape your yard in the middle of a hurricane.

My day goes a little something like this…

Peanut wakes up, then she’s changed and nursed. Sometime during that nursing session, Boo wakes up and demands breakfast. I ask her to be patient. She throws a tantrum. I set the baby in the crib to change Boo’s diaper (because she’s still so freaking resistant to potty training) and if I’m lucky, Peanut will fall back to sleep, but usually all three of us head downstairs.

Once we’re downstairs, I put Peanut in the swing and turn it on to distract her while I get Boo breakfast. By the time she’s got breakfast, Peanut is crying and wants to be picked up. I pick her up and interact with her while Boo eats, and at some point, Boo asks for more food, usually after only eating about half of what I’ve given her. I ask her to finish what she has. Another meltdown.

I nurse Peanut again and, if the stars align, she’ll let me put her in her swing so I can go about my day trying to get things done, like dishes, laundry, or whatever else has to be taken care of. My chores are usually interrupted by a toddler who wants my attention, so I spend some time with her, and then Peanut wakes up crying for the boob once more. My day is spent mostly with trying to keep the baby happy, while the toddler throws constant tantrums because she’s still not used to sharing her time with me yet.

It’s hard. It’s both emotionally and physically draining at times. At the end of the day, I’m exhausted. I’m not the mom I want to be, but I’m trying so hard to be a good one to both my girls.

Some days, I feel like I’m trying to tread water with weights tied around my ankles and I’m so close to drowning.

Today was not a good day. Boo is recovering from an ear infection and Peanut has been abnormally clingy too – maybe it’s a wonder week, maybe it’s a growth spurt, maybe she isn’t feeling great, I don’t know – so both kids needed me. Boo threw tantrums. Peanut cried more than usual. I could have been more patient and more understanding, but today was hard.

Tomorrow will be better. I have hope that eventually, at some point, parenting two littles will become easier. Until then, I’ll just work to keep my head above water.

Dear Daughter: On the Arrival of Your Little Sister

/ Katie / 2 Comments

Dear Boo,

Today is March 27, which means that I have officially hit 40 weeks of pregnancy with your little sister.

She will make her arrival into the world any day now, and I have been spending more time thinking about how it will affect you. For three years now, you have been our one and only, the light of our lives, the center of our world, and soon you will have to share the spotlight with this new little person. I’m excited to watch the two of you grow up, to see how your relationship blossoms as the years go on, but I’m also a little sad too.

You have taught me so much in your short life already. I have learned how to be a mother. I have learned how to love someone else more than I could ever imagine loving myself. I have learned forgiveness – not just for others, but for myself too, because I know I’m not perfect, and I know you know this too, and I see you forgiving me when I make mistakes.

I have grown up. I have you to thank for that.

I have also learned just how much I enjoy our one-on-one time. Our mother/daughter dates are something that I look forward to when we’re able to take them, and they seem to be one of your favorite things to do, too. That’s what makes me the most sad; it isn’t just that you will have to learn how to share me with someone else, but that our one-on-one time together will become more infrequent as I attempt to juggle my time between you both, and I don’t want to lose the bond that we’ve created since you entered my life.

Please be patient with me as I navigate this new world of being a parent of two.

Remember that you were first.

You were the first child that I brought into this world. You were the first to teach me about sleepless nights and colic, about breastfeeding and how to change diapers, about my own instincts and unconditional love; you were the one to teach me to have confidence in myself and my abilities as a parent, to ignore criticism when my gut told me that it was wrong, and to accept the fact that I’m not – and never will be – perfect.

You taught me how to be a mother, and I am so incredibly thankful for what you have brought to my life. As my firstborn, you will always hold a special place in my heart, and I hope that we remain as close as we are now as you grow older. I hope that you can look back on your childhood one day with fond memories of your time with me, because I still intend to have as much mother/daughter time as I can with you… even if you find yourself having to share that time with someone else sometimes, too.

I love you so much.

We’ll figure this out as we go.

Love,
Mom

Learning to Appreciate Every Second of Motherhood

/ Katie / Leave a comment

I don’t consider myself overly emotional. I’d like to think I’m pretty normal in the things that make me upset. After having a baby, I think maybe I am moved to tears a little more frequently than I used to be, but no more than what I still consider “normal.” (I know, it’s subjective, but hear me out for a moment.)

Yesterday afternoon, I had a moment with my two year old that hit me pretty hard.

I had just given her a shower and it was nearly naptime. I was seated on the floor of her bedroom, trying to coax to move her closer so that I could lay her down and put a diaper on her. With the towel wrapped around her tiny frame, she stepped toward me and fell into my lap, resting her head on my shoulder. This is what she usually does right after a shower when she doesn’t want me to get her dressed, so I was used to this.

I wrapped my arms around her and rocked a little from side to side. I told her that I loved her and that we would need to get dressed so we could lay down and she could nap. I don’t remember what I did to cause it now, but I had her laughing and she started to wiggle around. She slipped down and fell so that she was laying across my lap, with her legs hanging off to one side and her head resting in the crook of my arm. As I looked down at her, I realized that this was how I used to hold her as an infant, and I couldn’t remember the last time I got to hold her that way.

And I started to cry.

There was a post floating around on social media for a while about the weight of motherhood, and there was a quote that stuck out to me. “‘One day, you’ll put him down and won’t ever pick him up again’… because he will have outgrown it. And me.” I fully understood the meaning of that sentence yesterday.

My little girl isn’t so little anymore, and she’s getting bigger every single day. There will come a time when our cuddling will stop. She will stop asking me to pick her up. She will stop asking me for stories before bedtime. She will stop wanting me to tuck her in. She will stop hugging me after her showers. One of these times will be the last and I won’t know it until after it’s happened, and that saddens me.

One day, she will stop being the child I know and she will turn into a young woman, and then I will watch her leave and start her own life as an adult. It’s inevitable, and it will probably happen faster than I could ever imagine. These first two years of her life have already flown by.

Sometimes, I need a reminder to appreciate every single moment with her while I can, because I never know how things will be tomorrow. Yesterday was that reminder, and I’m going to make more of an attempt to be “in the moment” and to appreciate the little things she does, because there will come a time when those little things will stop, and then I’ll be left wishing I had paid more attention… but it will come too late.

Always appreciate every single moment. You never know when it will be the last time your child asks for something.