Over the next few weeks I would like to (gasp!) start regularly posting to my blog again.
This past year has been a challenging one. Like a wise friend once told me, one plus one does not equal two when it comes to kids. She prefaced this with, "It's hell, don't do it." but since I chose not to heed her first piece of advice I take comfort in knowing that I am not the only one who feels ill-equipped to care for more children than I can chase at any one time. Sometimes I feel as though I am just running through my day, checking off my perpetual to-do list, never really slowing down to enjoy the moments or reflect on them.
Tadpole is now a year old. (Yes, a year! Can you believe it?!?) He has turned out to be a very different baby than Bear. First off, he likes me, not just my boobs. And he EATS. Someone at work told me to be prepared to mortgage my house to feed him. Hmmmm... pretty sure I can't mortgage my apartment. (Quick side story: Years ago, when Andrew and I were married, without kids and living in then unknown blissful solitude in the ghetto, a window salesman called just about daily trying to get us to buy new windows for our house. I tried repeatedly to tell him that we did not own said house, but he insisted that we were listed as the owners and thus, able to purchase his windows. He finally stopped calling when I offered to sell him the mouse infested place.) I digress...
Tadpole also gets into things Bear never dreamed about touching (she was too busy nursing). He empties the dog's toy box daily. If he manages to sneak into the bathroom, he flushes the toilet. He puts all of the dog's food into her water dish, one piece of kibble at a time. This week he has started using Baby Signs for "all done", "more" and "bye-bye".
Bear is 4 1/2 going on 35. The things that come out of her mouth amaze and infuriate me with equal frequency. She LOVES Hannah Montana and Taylor Swift and Justin Bieber, just like her big sister. I don't really know when Elmo and Dora were put by the wayside, but I kind of miss them for her. This afternoon she was calling Tadpole silly names on the way home from daycare. After laughing hysterically at her wit when she called him a mailbox, she followed with, "You're an aglet." (If you don't know what that is, watch this.) I burst out laughing.
She is a wonderful big sister. She plays with Tadpole all the time, shares her toys, and is as careful as a 4-year old can be to not leave choking hazards lying around. In that respect, I am a very, very lucky mom.
(It is now 9:39pm and I am falling asleep while typing this. How telling of why I probably have let this blog fall by the wayside.)
To be continued...