My baby seems to have decided that our breastfeeding journey is nearing its end...but no one consulted me about this! She is my last baby, and I'm really going to miss this stage of togetherness. Truth be told, I'm going to miss an awful lot about this stage.
Well, to my credit, I didn’t actually cry…but I came close.
I took my 13-month-old daughter to a mommy-and-me music class last Thursday. We had taken one in the spring, and it was such a lovely bonding time—just the two of us, without big brother siphoning off any of the attention. Even though she was only 8 months old at the time, she absolutely knew that it was special time for her, and she loved it. She was wide-eyed and enthusiastic, and she’d alternate between excitedly shaking those little shaker eggs and snuggling into my body as we sang songs.
So I high hopes for the fall semester.
What went wrong?
I am tired. So tired. I feel like this is kind of redundant because I’m a mom and you know that already.
But here’s why I’m bringing it up (again): Because for one full week, I looked great. My skin was glowing, my under-eye circles had faded, I had more pep in my step and—dare I say—I looked younger. Yep, I’ll dare to say it: I looked younger. And it certainly wasn’t because I was suddenly getting more sleep. My 13-month-old is currently in the throes of teething, after all.
No, it was because I was trying out an ingenious combination of vitamins: Vitafive’s Beauty Pack.
Less than an hour after I hit “publish” on a post about unexpectedly perfect parenting days, my daughter started puking.
And she kept puking for the rest of the night. I got maybe two hours of sleep, and for a full 24 hours, our apartment reeked of an unholy combination of Clorox and vomit.
I had to laugh, because if I didn’t, I’d cry. Things like this always happen, don’t they? After parents have a wonderful day or an awesome epiphany, the universe always seems to smack them down to size....
I hate germs.
I realize that no one likes germs, but some of us like them a whole lot less than others.
Some of us cringe at the 10-second rule. Some of us panic when our kid picks up another kid’s drooled-on toy or drinks out of someone else’s cup. Some of us once even bought a pocket-sized UV pacifier sanitizer. (It seemed like a good idea at the time.) And by some of us, of course I mean me.
I can’t help it, and I’m no better with my second baby, even though everyone said I’d be more relaxed.
One month ago, my baby turned 1.
How this is possible, I have no idea, because I feel like I was pregnant about half a minute ago. But that’s the crazy thing about being a mom of two, isn’t it? Time flies in the most frightening way possible.
Also, excuse my language, but holy shit, I’m a mom of two. That sounds so grown up…and yet, I don’t feel grown up at all.
I’m not sure when that feeling is going to kick in, if ever, but I have noticed quite a few contradictions since we added Kid #2 to our brood.
The Olympics are making me see red right now. Why? Four little letters and one huge disease: Zika.
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