So if you’ve been reading since late last summer you know it hasn’t been a great year for me what with the miscarriage and the pretty severe flare up of my anxiety disorder. But the thing is it also has been a great year what with the new pregnancy and the whole parenthood gig. Yesterday we found for sure that the little guy in my belly is, in fact, a guy. And, yet again, T is in a phase that makes me excited to be his mom every single day.
In the past few years there have been several articles published concerning studies that conclude childless couples are happier than those with children and they have gotten a lot of air time in old the blogosphere. Heck, I cited one to Z when we were debating whether to have kids ourselves. And I get it. Having kids adds an enormous amount of stress to what was a fun yet reassuringly steady life of coupledom. We are already worried about how we are going to raise our little guys with our, um, limited financial means. We’ve come up against not having enough time for ourselves. Z doesn’t get to take two week sailing trips with his buddies anymore. We certainly don’t get to spend enough time with each other. Our lives are ruled by a 19 month old who can’t control his bowels. And we aren’t even experienced parents; we are still new to this game. As he and his brother start to get older things will get much more stressful. We’ll have to worry about bullying, about grades so they can get into good schools, about drugs and sex. And we still won’t be able to spend much time together.
But it just doesn’t matter. The joy he brings us is so incredibly worth it all. A year ago I was sure it was impossible to love him more than I did at that very moment, but I was wrong. As his personality develops and he absorbs and applies new skills my love for him increases. It has moved beyond the fierce instinctual maternal love to include a delight in who he is becoming. When he surprises us with a new word we had no idea he knew, when he kisses my belly and says, “Baby!”, when he hears the Skype ring tone and runs to the computer shouting, “Grandma!” I’m filled with the most clichéd love on the planet. And I just don’t care because it is new to me and it feels divine.
So please indulge me. I’m reveling in his adorableness and can’t seem to pare down the number of pictures this evening.
My wonderful cousin gave us a bath alphabet when T was brand new. It’s a great toy, I recommend it wholeheartedly. T is learning the letters of his name, at this point he can identify T, H, and A pretty consistently.
Bathtime is just about his favorite time of day.
Z’s dad dug out the Star Wars cup from Z’s childhood and gave it to us at Christmas time. T can identify Chewie, C3PO, R2 D2, and Leia by name. Z is so proud he doesn’t know what to do with himself.
We had a major moment tonight. T was, well he was straining if you catch my drift, in the tub. I asked if he needed to poop on the potty and he said yes. So we finished the bath at lightening speed and sat him on his duck toilet. And little dude did it! While brushing his teeth! Multitasking at its finest.