Rankish Teapants

I swear I only gave birth to you 17 months ago, but in this past month it would appear that you turned two. Or at least took on all of the required traits for a toddler going through the Terrible Twos.

Other mothers say that their 17/18 month olds are acting the same way, so at least I can breathe easy for now, knowing that I am not raising a complete CrAzY. Trust me, if it weren’t for the reassurance, I would be seeking out special padding for all of the walls in the house. A padded floor might be nice too. Though that would be for me since I seem to forever be tripping over your cars, buses, trains and all other wheeled toys that you never tire of playing with.

There is nothing so cute as seeing you get right down on the floor with your head on your arm as you “mmmmm” “brrr” as you roll your vehicles back and forth. There is also nothing quite so un-cute as you getting frustrated that the magnets on various magnetic vehicles are pushing apart rather than pulling together. I try and tell you to turn it around, but you’d rather deliver a sweeping blow to the toys. I totally understand that they are getting on your last nerve, but if you just listen, you will learn how to fix it and it won’t annoy you again.

That being said, you are my child, so I can’t really fault you for your short temper. I can however let you know that we don’t do things like that in this house. Just like we don’t willfully empty the basket of remotes behind the sofa, pour water in your electronic toys, put pillows on top of your baby sister, push all of the buttons on the washing machine, pull whatever is in your reach off of the kitchen counter, or dump your raisins all over the floor.

We do however enjoy your random outbursts of dancing, the endless hugs you want to give Amy and the kisses and cuddles you have for us.

Month 17 was also the month that you decided to show us that you had grown the perfect amount to open the front door and walk out. That’s right. We returned from a trip out and I had to pee very badly, so after I had you and your sister in from the car, I told you that I was just running up to the bathroom, only to get back downstairs and hear your familiar “uhh? uhh??” in the distance. Where on earth was that coming from? And then I saw the light in the front hall that was like a beacon screaming to me “you are the Worst Mother Ever! Your toddler escaped all because you just HAD to pee!”. I moved as fast as my fat and frightened legs would take me and found you standing on the driveway with your arms up in the air “uhhing” as you looked around wondering where I was.

Month 17 was the month you nearly killed me. Now my heart skips a beat when you slip out of view and I have to keep the front door locked even when I’m sitting in the room next door.

Other than highlighting that I cannot imagine what my life would be like without you in it.. even for half a minute, your escape highlighted that you are growing up so quickly. You are trying to walk up the stairs and not crawl, you can open and close doors, you come to get me when you think Amy needs me, you try and pick her up to give her a hug, you ask to brush your teeth at least 3 times a day – though not with words. And although you can “moo” and say only a couple of words here and there, that is totally fine by me, because I need something to remind me that you’re still just a little dude. Not even a year and a half old.

What I wouldn’t give to keep you this age forever, but I know I need to let you grow and explore and go through the phases drive me up the wall, and cherish the stages where you ooze cuteness. Even though there seem to be more of the crazy stages, I am so proud of you.

Don’t ever stop being you.

Happy Seventeen Months, GrumpyPumps!!
Mommy Loves You!!

Maybe not quite 1000, but this picture sums up the lives of Noah and Amy now and until they no longer speak to me or have their own children who think the same way they do now…

Amy to Noah: Dude, is she always like this?

Noah to Amy: Just wait. You haven’t seen anything yet….

Just over 16 months ago I gave birth to your brother. The actual birthing experience was not one which I ever wanted to repeat. It was very long, it was painful at first but so numb for a lot of it that there are still parts that I cannot remember. Afterwards, it took me a while to accept that the baby lying in the plastic box next to me was mine. I’d waited so long to be a mommy and when it happened, it wasn’t like the stories you hear or what you see on television. I struggled for a while and there were days I thought that I would never feel the way you are “supposed” to and that maybe I just wasn’t meant to be a mommy.

One month ago I gave birth again. It was still painful, but so much shorter. I felt everything even though I didn’t want to. And then at just before 10.00am on the 4th of June the midwife said “with your next push, there will be a baby on your chest”. She was right, because the next thing I knew Kadie announced that you were a GIRL!!!! and then you were lying on me and crying.

The room was bright, you were healthy as can be and all of the pain that I had felt had already been forgotten. Not to say I would ever repeat the experience .. and this time I really mean it, but it was great. It was everything you see on tv and hear about and you looked just like your brother, but with a vagina.

It was definitely one of the best moments of my life. I survived, I had my girl and you were perfect. Even if you did look like you had been in the sun too long without any protection. But hey, tomato red is much better than hobbit grey/purple. The feeling that I wanted so bad with Noah appeared to be there. At least a much closer version than I had the first time.

After a bit of bonding with Mommy and Daddy you got to meet Kadie (actually, she was in the room when you were born and saw you before I did), Zed, your Nan and your big brother Noah. You got lots of cuddles and a nose honk or two and then everyone went home and we were left together. I expected you to sleep all evening and be awake all night. After all, you had a very busy morning. But no, you seemed to be letting me know that you were not going to be the sleeper that your brother was.

I don’t know if I have completely forgotten what things were like with your brother, but you seem to be more difficult. You need to be held more, you want to feed more often, you cry more, you scream more and you hit or scratch your face all of the time. More than one person has said that you sound like me. Not me as a baby, but me now. That is so not what I want to hear. I’ve always said that I understand why people cannot live with me, because sometimes I struggle to get through the day living with myself. And now.. now there are two of us? Perhaps I should have called you Karma instead of Amy.

The days where it is bad I struggle. It is a lot harder when I have you and your brother to share attention between. He has mostly been understanding. Then again, he has been pretty understanding about my parental shortcomings since birth. You, not so much. Probably another one of the traits you got from me.

The days where it is not so bad, I cannot get over how much love I feel for you, even though you look back at me with crossed eyes or a scowl. Even when your eyes are saying “you suck, woman. I want a Mother Refund” I cannot help but stare into them. You have blue eyes. I know it is temporary, but Noah never ever had them and I cannot believe that one day I am going to look into your eyes and they will be different. This means I take photos of your face a lot. I’m hoping to get the perfect photo which will forever remind me of the eyes that soon enough I will never get to see again.

To be honest, I am trying to capture all of the good things I can about this time, because I feel like there are not many. Though it seems when you are crying and cannot be soothed that you are to blame for all of the not-so-goodness, I do accept that I am not meant to be in charge of newborns 24 hours a day. Unfortunately for all involved, there is no other option. Luckily your father has far more patience than I do and is okay with pacing up and down this tiny house while you wail your heart out and I try and spend a few moments alone with your brother who went from having all of my attention to very little.

It actually took me a while to write this to you because I felt guilty that it wasn’t more positive and wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows since I now have my perfect little family and I should be over the moon. And I am. On the inside. But I know that things will get better and every good thing will seem great when we can go back and see how hard the beginning was. When you are not feeding for 4 hours straight, getting mad when I can’t magic up more milk from somewhere, when you are not crying every time you need to fart, when you can be put down and don’t mind looking around the room instead of crying and demanding that you be held. Oh, and if you didn’t come out of the womb able to hold up your head and roll and do things you’re not meant to be able to do, it would have given me a little more time to adjust. But I can’t even just plop you down on the couch while I fold laundry .. and not because Noah will force you to play pat-a-cake, but because you roll and get yourself stuck in places you shouldn’t be or cannot get out of!!

In a few months (maybe a bit longer) I will be enjoying the time with you and telling myself that I shouldn’t have wished away the newborn days, and to be fair, we’ve made it through the first month relatively unscathed. Sure my eyes look like I’ve been 10 rounds with Ricky Hatton and I have the energy level of a sloth, but I am the mother of a healthy, not-often-but-occasionally happy, strong willed little girl and her terrible-twos-come-early but oh so cute older brother.

And there have been good things in our first month that will outshine the bad: you eventually regained your birth weight back after a long 3 week wait and did it all without a bottle, even though we had a rough start with breastfeeding and I appear to produce semi-skimmed/1% and not the full fat cream you should be having. You appear to love your brother even if he sometimes scares you with his excited dancing. You gave me a smile before you were one month old.. though they are very very very rare. You let me know that you need me and that you feel “calmer” when I am holding you, which IS a good thing .. just perhaps a little less often would be even better.

So although this month had more valleys than peaks, we survived and go into month 2 with fingers crossed that things will start to improve .. or at least that I lose my short term memory and convince myself that they did.

Happy One Month, Squawkers.
Mommy Loves You!