With Avery rapidly approaching one, I thought it would be a good time to share my thoughts on life with two – and life without a newborn.

As recently as a few months ago, I found myself struggling with how fast Avery was growing. Given the fact that Avery is (likely) our last child, it was hard not to look at everything from the “last of” perspective (as in, “that’s the last time we’ll see a first crawl” and “that’s the last time we’ll be dressing a baby in that cute outfit”), and I was consistently weepy about the changes I saw in her. I was excited about each phase, of course, but it’s almost as if I went through a bit of mourning as she morphed from “newborn” to “infant.” (And if that sounds a little dramatic, I blame the hormones!)

At the same time, there were the (normal) struggles of adjusting to life with two small children. I was often tired (and grumpy). The girls were often sick. There were tons of good moments – far more than bad ones, really – but when things were bad, they felt really, really bad. I often – especially in the early months – felt overwhelmed, and I even asked myself in the beginning, “Did we make a mistake? Did we have a second child too soon?”

But then things slowly shifted. As discussed here before, after a few months caring for two small children started to feel normal and even (at times) easy. Sure, I was still tired (and often grumpy) – and the girls still sometimes got sick – but I felt better equipped to handle what was thrown our way. There were fewer frantic calls to Q (“Come home and help, please!”) and fewer maybe-we-made-a-mistake thoughts.

It also occurred to me recently that I’ve gotten fewer lumps in my throat when marking down another milestone or packing away Avery’s clothes. I’m still sentimental over the past, and I can’t deny that newborns are terribly special, but what helps is the fact that this stage is pretty great (and some would argue better), too. With each passing day, Avery becomes more interesting and engaging and fun to be around – and easier to take care of. When she gives me that goofy, toothy grin or says my name or huffs and puff in excitement when it’s time to drink milk – all things she couldn’t do when we first brought her home from the hospital – I find myself feeling anything but mournful. (And don’t even get me started on Zoe, who makes me laugh every day with her funny and sweet comments/stories/songs.)

I may never experience certain baby “firsts” again, but I know I’m extremely lucky for what I’ve got. And I know someday, when the girls are 10 or 8, or 18 and 16, I’ll laugh at myself for thinking 11 months was old! I also have a feeling that if she could, Older-Michelle would give Now-Michelle some important advice: “Just enjoy it all.” Which is what I’m trying to do.

-M

This entry was posted on Thursday, May 27th, 2010 at 7:29 pm and is filed under 46.Two kids-May 10. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.