An excerpt from my baby blog, the first week after we brought Will home two years ago:
"Now that our lives have returned to some sense of normalcy, I'd say the things that surprise me most is how quickly I had forgotten about the hours spent doing nothing but nursing, the fear of leaving the house and have the newborn melt down in public, and and how an entire day can pass with nothing to show for it - the baby continues to be hungry, wet, dirty, and the laundry continues to pile up.
On the other hand, this time I do feel more calm, knowing that this too shall pass. Part of me wants this newborn phase to last forever. Too soon Emily has become this enormous kid, and I know the time I have with Will, curled up asleep in my arms, making little squeaky noises, ends too soon."
Boy is that the truth. Will is now this huge two-year-old, walking and talking with opinions and ideas of his own. And his opinion of his new baby sister? Well, he's nice to her, for the most part. He'll ask to hold her, and says "My Baby!", and pat her head while she's nursing. But he's having a difficult time sharing me. And well, to be fair, it's not exactly a fair split. Violet gets most of the attention, and he gets some snuggles and stories sort of on the side. It's heartbreaking, as he screams at night for me and I can't go in to comfort him because Violet needs me.
But then, despite all of that, we're doing it. Somehow balancing three kids. Everyone is fed, clothed, maybe just a little attention starved, but at this point any semblance of normal is a lofty goal, I suppose. And normal for us? Emily sulking around, asking if I had a chance to load more songs onto her iPod, and Will screaming "Mommy mommy mommy!" if I'm, god forbid, in the bathroom for more than ten seconds. I know newborns are pretty mellow at this age, but is it normal for the one-week-old to be the easy one?
But despite all that, I'm enjoying Violet immensely. Maybe it's because I know she's very likely our last baby, and maybe because I'll be returning to work at some point, I can just stare at her little face and marvel at her tiny fingernails and soft hair. I promised myself I wouldn't tempt fate and write about how she's been able to stay in one outfit almost all day, and there's no projectile spit up this time around, but I just did. I hope it lasts. I remember burping will after a feeding, only to have the entire contents of his stomach emptied down the front of my shirt.
The last two years have flown by, and I can barely remember holding Will when he was a week old, with his dark eyes peering up, squinting at the newness of the world. And Emily? It seems like decades ago that she was this small. But I don't want to miss out when Will does something new and exciting. He's putting words together so fast now, saying things he wasn't saying a week ago. Then there's Emily. She is at such a weird age of independence and neediness right now, I have to stop myself from snapping at her, and often times snap at her anyway and feel very guilty about it afterward.
In the end, all of the things I wrote about Will's first week are still true. I am trying to enjoy this time with Violet, I love looking at her long fingers, and her beautiful hair, her surprised look when she opens her eyes. She's so wonderful and sweet and I couldn't be happier wasting an entire day staring at her perfect little face. But then from the other room, I'm brought back to reality with a shrill scream from Will and Emily shouting "No Will, It's MINE!"
It's a juggling act. I hope I can keep it all in the air.
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