(I Survived) The First Month

On Monday, Grant was officially one month old.  This means that I have officially survived one full month as a mom of two (someone get me some Lee jeans, because I think that’s how you officially celebrate becoming a mom of two, right?)  And OF COURSE I know that I’m not the first mom of two, that doesn’t mean that I had any clue how I would manage this, and that gives me the right to share my terror, fear, exasperation, joy and triumph with the world.

So, how do we manage?  We are blessed that Miles is absolutely in love with his “yiddle” brother.  Yes, I am fully aware this will change many times over the course of FOREVER, but for now in these newborn days, it’s a big damn help. He actually wants to not only be in the same room as Grant, but he wants to play with him as much as he can.  I have explained to Miles that right now, Grant’s idea of “playing” is pretty much just staring at the ceiling fan, but that will begin to change in the next few months.  Just watching Miles interact with Grant is really cool.

We have successfully avoided major injuries so far, although Grant has had his head/face covered by a blanket twice.  Both times it happened during an OHMYGOSHFEEDMENOWIAMSTARVING screamfest, so I explained to Miles that while we all wanted the screaming to stop, covering Grant’s head probably wasn’t the most effective way to accomplish this…but kudos for trying something new.

I have left the kids together in the same room unattended a handful of times, although I am always in earshot.  Only once upon returning did I find Grant’s face covered in Sesame Street stickers.

Grant has had Thomas, Percy and Henry driven over his body on more than one occasion, but Miles has learned that it’s okay to “play trains” on Grant as long as we do it gently (i.e. you cannot load Diesel’s car with rocks won top of Grant’s head).

Miles is fascinated that Grant has parts just like him, only smaller: “yiddle” toes, “yiddle” ears, “yiddle” nipples, “yiddle” peepee.

Miles loves to give Grant hugs and kisses, and if Grant happens to be sleeping, Miles we most certainly use his inside voice at all times.  No, wait…Miles will refuse to use his inside voice and instead meow loudly in Grant’s face because, “Mama, he’s up!  Let’s play!”

The only way to keep up with a toddler when you have a newborn is to constantly wear the baby during toddler waking hours.  Miles has taken to telling everyone he sees that “Mama put Grant in her pocket!” Pocket = wrap.

Grant has had many food items on his head: ketchup, jelly, raisins, wine.  Sometimes I drop it, sometimes Miles kisses it on his head, and sometimes I think Grant is sneaking my merlot because this place is a damn circus.

I have conceded, and let Miles watch more TV more than I’d like, but sometimes that’s the only way to safely feed Grant without the imminent threat of being beaned in the head by a basketball.  I still keep it to PBS, though.  After being subjected to Disney Junior in our pediatrician’s waiting room, I have vowed against ever allowing the Mouse or any of his friends into our home.  I mean, Choo Choo Soul, really?  Where’s the educational value in teaching my toddler how to do the hustle while singing about steam engines?  I’ll take Sid the Science Kid, thankyouverymuch.

I have also managed both kids on my own for a FULL DAY, and for a night including dinner, bath and bedtime, and I have survived.  GIVE ME A DAMN PARADE.

The truth is, you’re way more relaxed with the second kid.  Maybe it’s because you have a vague idea of what you’re doing now; maybe it’s because you drink way more wine, maybe it’s because you’re on maternity leave so you don’t have to wear shoes or pants with buttons, and you can eat jalapeno potato chips at 10am without any comments because newborns have zero opinions about sensible eating.  But either way, we’ve found a rhythm that works, and although there are some challenging minutes/hours/days, the overwhelming majority of this adventure is incredibly awesome.  Now, we’ll revisit this triumph in six months.

I Woke Up Like This,

K

Word.

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