When Thing One was born, my husband and I couldn’t wait to bring her
home and welcomed our new roles, as mother and father to our brand new
baby daughter, celebrating each milestone of "firsts" with equal
amounts of enthusiasm and trepidation.
Then, I became pregnant with Thing Two and – though, I couldn’t wait and called my husband…at work…and
gave him the results of the pregnancy test…while in the middle of a
meeting with a client…because, I am all about informality – I was
surprised to feel a bit worried about whether or not I was ready to
separate myself from being the world to Thing One and not knowing
exactly how I was going to manage sharing, well, pretty much everything
else with TWO babies!?!
Then Thing Two was born and…WHAM!…things like colic, irritable
bowel and projectile vomiting became standards in our vocabulary, as we
spent the next 8 months sleepwalking and it was obvious, right from the
start, that there was no comparison.
"I can’t seem to be able to make her happy and I’m afraid that this child will grow up to hate me!"
I cried – along with Thing Two – nearly every night and tried
everything that any doctor, lawyer, Indian chief and even my MIL
suggested that I simply strap the child into the stroller, or car seat
and just go with it.
I did and it worked.
Soon, she (and I) grew used to needing very little sleep and spent
the next couple of months, together – watching Barney, Pooh Bear, or
any blessed video that would give us, along the rest of the house, a
little peace – and sort of getting reacquainted, with each other.
Then, Little Man came along and Thing Two adored her new baby
brother and I was surprised at how quickly she adjusted to her new role
as "big sister."
Middle child, not so much.
"I can’t seem to be able to make her happy and I’m afraid that this child will grow up to hate me!"
After all, at 2 1/2 years old, she wasn’t even out of diapers yet and I cried on her first day of nursery school – she did NOT.
"Gotta kiss for Momma?"
She ran right for the play kitchen set, and started pushing a
shopping cart, and I just shook my head and waved, as her teacher tried
to coax her back.
"That’s okay – she knows Momma’s busy with the baby
and her big sister is just down the hall, too – have fun and I love
you, baby!"
She did.
I remember rushing around and barely making it to her preschool
graduation, because the next day, her baby sister (child #4) was
scheduled to arrive – though, at this point, she and I had learned to
pretty much go with the flow – Thing Two would always be the middle
girl.
"I can’t seem to be able to stop thinking about when you were little and how much you’ve grown!"
Thing Two – my middle girl – is graduating 5th grade, today.
"I can’t believe you’re going to middle school, already."
She’s smart, confident, beautiful and has a wicked sense of humor –
especially, when things around here can get a little, you know, sticky
– we’ve grown to refer to Thing Two as our family’s little peacemaker.
"It’s okay – Thing One told me a lot of stuff and
showed me around, already – now, you’ll have two of us to worry about
and I’m sure I will have fun getting into lots of trouble and making
YOU mad."
[snort]
"Am I really that terrible of a mother?"
She shook her head and sort of, smiled.
"Nah, you’re kind of somewhere, you know, in between."
I love you too, baby.