Eating For Two

This post is my overdue announcement that we're expecting our second child. Actually, we're expecting him so much that we know his gender, his name, and have already purchased (but not constructed) some IKEA furniture for him.

It's funny, when I was pregnant with Soph, I knew exactly how far along I was, was totally on top of how much she weighed, how long she was, and what vegetable approximated her size, but this time, I'm sort of like, "Well...I'm about 27 weeks...or, wait. No, 28. He feels pretty big. I don't know."

So, yes, we are so excited and so happy and feel so incredibly lucky to have had the chance to have another child. Sometimes, I think about the sleeplessness and the imbalance of life with a toddler, and then I think of adding another layer of lack of sleep and little messes and more years of diapers and breastfeeding and just the inordinate amount of poop that little kids bring. It is during these times that I remind myself of all the snuggling and kisses and the excitement of a kid's first words, steps, smiles, and all that other good stuff, and I think, "YES. I want that NOW."

We were having dinner with some friends who have a daughter the same age as Sophie, and we were talking about our resolutions for the new year. The other dad's was to be "more on top of parenting". I was quick to blurt out that mine was completely the opposite--to let even more stuff go. They laughed, but it was true. There are a lot of times when I get kind of down on myself, not so much for the job I'm doing as a mom, but the job I'm doing as a person in general. I think too often and too long about the fact that my floors are rarely clean and our kitchen counter has crumbs on it most of the time. There are nights where I can't get to sleep because I am wondering if I should be potty training now, thinking that I haven't given the tub a good scrub in too long, or that we have had macaroni and cheese for lunch two days this week.

So, in 2014, I am pledging to replace those thoughts with nicer, saner ones. I am going to talk to myself the way I'd talk to any of my other friends. I'm going to acknowledge that my kid readily eats Brussels sprouts, already says "please" and "thank you", and doesn't watch TV (and doesn't ask to). That my husband and I still really like each other and that we get a lot out of our hour and a half each night. That it doesn't really matter if laundry sits in the dryer for days because it's usually because my kid and I are painting together or reading for an hour, or because I'm talking to my husband in the evening instead of rushing to do chores all the time. The best evidence I have that I'm not screwing up is the fact that my kid is healthy and happy and my marriage is not only intact, but happy, and THAT is what I'll be focusing on in the new year.

I think a lot of this will come naturally when we have our new baby around, too. There will be less time for worries, and my eyes will be so blurry from lack of sleep that I won't even notice the dried yogurt on the linoleum or the fingerprints on the stainless steel. I am looking forward to this forced acceptance of chaos, this blissful abandonment of caring about the little things, and the copious amounts of coffee I will soon be allowed to drink.

Take care and happy New Year!