After a solid month of having family around, we are finally getting the chance to try our hand at being just a family of four. Today was the first day of just me and the kids at home, and there were no tears. (Even though only two of us are actually able to produce tears at the moment.)
Molly will be four weeks old tomorrow and, even though I'm not as much of a mental case as I was when Parker was born, I'm still pretty sleep deprived and, as a result, plain old stupid. My brain power is being used to change bums and ensure that anyone under three feet tall is fed in a timely manner. Everything else is secondary. Except laundry. I am a laundry doing fiend and when it eventually gets folded I put it away like a fiend, too. We're still working on getting back into a fiendish folding routine. We're only four weeks in though, and I know it was a solid eight with Parker before I felt capable of life.
When I dropped my mom off at the airport Saturday evening I managed to confuse myself enough with figuring out how to drive to Michaels afterward that I started thinking it was Friday and wow rush hour traffic was light and dang I might as well go to the thrift store on the way home to pick up some books since I have no kids. Except of course it was closed because it wasn't Friday at all and things close earlier on Saturdays. Then I went home and to bed at 8:30 because adulting is fun.
I cleaned my kitchen this morning, did laundry, and emptied the dishwasher so I think the second time mom is ahead of the game. I imagine moms with three or more kids are making dinner in the delivery room they're such pros.
Having a toddler and a newborn presents its own challenges. When Karl's around I like to negotiate my way out of changing all the diapers. I'll offer to do one kid in exchange for him doing the other. The question I find myself asking is whether I'd rather change one giant raunchy toddler turd or eight newborn ones. Usually there's no actual option, but these are the deep things I think about in the middle of at the night while I'm up at BFG o'clock acting as baby buffet.
I remember thinking with newborn Parker that he never napped when I wanted. Why did that kid just want to be awake and torment me? Now I can't help but wish he slept like he did when he was a newborn. Okay, I wouldn't trade the 13 Parker-free hours I get a night for all the diamonds in the world, but during the day? Yes, please, nap all the time. I didn't sleep while holding him until he got his first cold at two months because I had the fear of squishing him branded into my soul by the health nurses. This go-round Molly and I nap together regularly and we tend to co-sleep half the nights. She's got some gas issues (she doesn't like it) and I have some issues with being woken up every couple hours (I don't like it) so cuddling is mutually beneficial. She has someone to fart on and I can get up to three and a half hours of sleep in a row.
During the day I get to stare enviously at Molly napping in her vibrating massage chair, working to get the gas out, while I get fed pieces of chalk and pull a wooden bee around the house on plastic cord. Today the big game was helping Parker put on his hoodie and zipping it up everything 90 seconds.
With Parker I found I had to go easy on my ginger consumption, but I now I've had the horrendous realization that I may need to take a break from eating black beans with Molly. I was planning on making (and eating most of) a bean cake for her due date. I'm glad I realized the negative impact that can have on our lives/sleep before I went hardcore. I'm sad, but I've got coffee to comfort me so it could be much worse. And I'm fairly confident in my ability to make a decent chickpea cake.
Parker fell down the stairs yesterday before going to a Superbowl party with Karl. It wrecked me, hearing the thump-thump-thump-cry. He was fine, just scared, but we didn't see it happen and I had visions of him with a broken head or neck and then I contemplated getting our fireplaces removed and wrapping him in bubble wrap. I had a lot of that kind of anxiety when he was born, but I'm doing really well this time. I've never thought about getting a helmet for Molly, and she's only had one head injury so far.
Parker is very into his books, and the other day he got a little over zealous with the Toot book (his current favourite) and hit Molly in the temple with the corner of it while I was burping her. She cried, he cried, she had a tiny red mark on her head all day, but the real takeaway was that he loves her enough to feel empathy to whatever extent a toddler can actual feel complex emotions. I just know they're going to be BFFs, he just has to stop trying to stick his fingers in her eyes and ears.
Molly and I had our own grand old Superbowl party. We drank milk, ate cookies, got tummy massages, and watched Sherlock. I even did laundry. The good life.
I have to say, I really wasn't sad to see the tail end of January. Excepting Molly, it was kind of a crummy month. Sure, I ate some amazing cake, but I spent a fair amount of time in a body that was, in all likelihood, trying to kill me. Without modern medicine I would have been a walking bag of infection (probably still would be, and super pregnant to boot). Nevermind the whole water breaking thing, but I also got a stomach bug last weekend. There is nothing more desirable than having a 2.5 week old infant and being forced to spend an embarrassing amount of time in the bathroom while also necessitating a giant mixing bowl beside your bed. It's okay, though, because I lost five lbs over night, and since I'd over indulged in lactation cookies my milk supply didn't seem to suffer one bit. I was also the only person in the house to get sick and had a good excuse to stay home from church with Molly and watch Netflix.
I've got to hand it to January, though. I surpassed my weight loss goal, and am now down 23 (okay, 20 since I started eating/drinking again) lbs. Take that, Christmas weight.
Speaking of food, our church has arranged a meal train for us, so instead of making supper this week I can do other productive thing instead of preparing food for my family. Like blogging.