Like mother, like daughter. I don’t like light when I’m sleeping either.
Nap Time
Parenting
Seven and Seven
I knew having Baby #2 would be a challenge, but apparently, I had no idea. I was ready for diaper changes, sore breasts and late nights.
I wasn’t ready for the toll my girls’ seven-year spread would have on me. The needs of a seven year old often conflict with those of a seven week old. While I’m supposed to be helping with homework or listening to a run-down of the school day, I have to contend with a hungry, crabby, or poopy infant.
Exhaustion doesn’t help. The old adage “sleep when the baby sleeps” had to be coined by a person with only one kid. If I took a nap every time the baby did, my oldest would wear dirty clothes to school and be sustained on a diet of Fruit Loops.
I’m getting better. Or at least I hope I am. The first step was for me to accept the imperfections. Superwoman I am not. Right now, the sink is full of dishes, and there is a basket of unfolded laundry in the living room. I’ll get to them tomorrow.
It turns out the baby likes to sleep during car rides, so this weekend we’ll go out for ice cream. The ride should buy me a tear-free hour, giving me some time with E.
And if I’m lucky, I can catch a nap or two.
16 and 6
It’s been a wonderful holiday season so far. And, true to form, I got so busy that I forgot to blog about it! Here’s one of the highlights:
My husband’s 16-year-old son came to visit us for the first time. Even though I knew of D’s existence, I never thought of myself as a stepmom. I wanted my husband to spend more time with his son, and I wanted our daughter to know her brother, but I hadn’t factored myself into the equation. Plus, the drama behind it all had gone on for so long that I thought D would be an adult by the time we finally met.
So when the prospect of blending our family became a reality rather than a theory, I was a nervous wreck. “Just be yourself,” Hubby said. “It’ll be great!”
I tried to share Hubby’s optimism, but I couldn’t shake the underlying fear that I’d somehow turn out to be the Wicked Stepmother. Could I ask him to do dishes without appearing to be a power-crazed meanie?
Turns out, I needn’t have worried. D is a great kid, and he has the same kind and optimistic demeanor as his dad. Plus, his little sister wrapped him around her baby finger. He was playing Barbies and promising to bake cookies within 10 minutes of his arrival. That girl’s got skills, I must admit.
After prying my daughter off of D’s leg and putting her to bed, I had a chance to talk with him alone. Hubby went to bed early, exhausted from working late hours. D was eating some baked chicken he found in the fridge. (Note: Teenage boys eat A LOT. Plan on doubling your grocery bill.)
“Do you have any rules I should know about?” he asked.
“Don’t drink my club soda,” I said. “I can’t really think of anything else right now.”
D nodded, and he then proceeded to tell me how he had been looking forward to this visit.
“It was really bothering me that I have a sister, and I don’t know her,” he said. “It’s been bothering me for a while.” He licked his fingers. “This is good chicken, by the way.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I’m glad you’re here. You’re welcome anytime.”
And that was it. All the nervousness melted away.
A few days later, I gave Hubby a hug as he was watching the kids put together a puzzle.
“You’ve got two kids,” I said. “How does it feel?”
“Feels good,” he said. “You know, you’ve got two kids too.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I guess I do.”
DivaScript 