The kids are growing up way too fast.
LG is 8.5 years and going through the beginnings of puberty. One of her nipples is growing (I assume the other one will, or I'll be calling her pediatrician) and she has the first strands of pubic hair (I wouldn't know this, except she insisted that I examine it up close and personal). I remember this latter occurrence happening to me at a very early age as well, and I didn't have a period until after 12, so I'm not incredibly concerned. But still. She's as close to 12 as she is to the 4 year old preschooler who used to accompany me to the RE's office.
She really is a great kid. She's wicked smart and funny, introverted but rarely shy. I really can't imagine what she'll end up doing as an adult, as she's good at--and interested in--almost everything she tries. Art, reading, writing, gymnastics, swimming, drama. Math is her "worst" subject but even then she doesn't really struggle. My biggest gripes? That she can't manage to put a damn thing away and that she stays up too late reading with a flashlight. I look at her and it seems impossible that she's the same kid who drove me crazy during that 2.5-4 era, and who screamed around the clock as an infant. (To be fair, her intensity is the same; she just manages it better.)
And then there's Tiny Boy. He's crawling (a demented one-kneed crawl, but it gets him places) and cruising and even daring (and sometimes succeeding) in standing unsupported. The sleeping thing still sucks. And now apparently he's on some baby food strike and won't let me feed him with a spoon. Which would be fine, if he was actually capable of self-feeding, which he's not (chunky foods really don't work for him yet, though I did let him suck on a pizza crust last night). I look at him and see the beginnings of a little boy, not the 5 lb baby he used to be.
It's hard, this mother of two thing, and I imagine it will be both easier and harder when I really go back to work. Easier because I'll have full-time childcare and harder because there will be even more to do and all the usual work stress. But I won't have all the ttc and early pregnancy stress (weird to think I haven't been back in the classroom since my second trimester), not to mention being on the other side of the tenure debacle.
This afternoon, when Tiny Boy wakes from his nap, we have plans to have a picnic dinner. She'll climb to the highest spot she can find, and I'll push him on a baby swing. In many ways--both good and difficult--life with two is exactly what I thought. It's nice to be living my life instead of wanting and waiting for it to begin.
LG is 8.5 years and going through the beginnings of puberty. One of her nipples is growing (I assume the other one will, or I'll be calling her pediatrician) and she has the first strands of pubic hair (I wouldn't know this, except she insisted that I examine it up close and personal). I remember this latter occurrence happening to me at a very early age as well, and I didn't have a period until after 12, so I'm not incredibly concerned. But still. She's as close to 12 as she is to the 4 year old preschooler who used to accompany me to the RE's office.
She really is a great kid. She's wicked smart and funny, introverted but rarely shy. I really can't imagine what she'll end up doing as an adult, as she's good at--and interested in--almost everything she tries. Art, reading, writing, gymnastics, swimming, drama. Math is her "worst" subject but even then she doesn't really struggle. My biggest gripes? That she can't manage to put a damn thing away and that she stays up too late reading with a flashlight. I look at her and it seems impossible that she's the same kid who drove me crazy during that 2.5-4 era, and who screamed around the clock as an infant. (To be fair, her intensity is the same; she just manages it better.)
And then there's Tiny Boy. He's crawling (a demented one-kneed crawl, but it gets him places) and cruising and even daring (and sometimes succeeding) in standing unsupported. The sleeping thing still sucks. And now apparently he's on some baby food strike and won't let me feed him with a spoon. Which would be fine, if he was actually capable of self-feeding, which he's not (chunky foods really don't work for him yet, though I did let him suck on a pizza crust last night). I look at him and see the beginnings of a little boy, not the 5 lb baby he used to be.
It's hard, this mother of two thing, and I imagine it will be both easier and harder when I really go back to work. Easier because I'll have full-time childcare and harder because there will be even more to do and all the usual work stress. But I won't have all the ttc and early pregnancy stress (weird to think I haven't been back in the classroom since my second trimester), not to mention being on the other side of the tenure debacle.
This afternoon, when Tiny Boy wakes from his nap, we have plans to have a picnic dinner. She'll climb to the highest spot she can find, and I'll push him on a baby swing. In many ways--both good and difficult--life with two is exactly what I thought. It's nice to be living my life instead of wanting and waiting for it to begin.
:) Love this.
ReplyDeletewhat a wonderful tribute to 2 great kids and their awesome mom!
ReplyDeleteAww, Amen to the final sentiment. LGs flaws are charming--all the best kids are untidy and stay up late reading. But their outward charm probably translates to annoying to live with. And yes, it seems like that transformation from baby to toddler happens about then...sad to see the baby go, exciting to see the little person.
ReplyDeleteLoved reading this post. I'm really enjoying learning about you and your family.
ReplyDelete