How long has it been since my last post? There for a while I was a blogging machine! Alas, a baby, a filthy house, a high-maintenance diva dog, and a military man can surely zap the time and energy out of ya. That's not a bad thing. Where the heck has the last year gone? Gosh, this time last year, I was newly-impregnated (thanks D and God), and I was beginning to feel the effects of such. Looking back, 2012 was the best year ever. All the puking (mine and Reeve's) and spitting (again, mine and Reeve's) and crying (you get the picture, right?) added up to give me such a joyful, humbling initiation to the greatest job on earth: motherhood. I love being a mom, and I hope that I'm not too terrible at it.
Reeve is pretty incredible. We hear all the time that he is the "happiest baby ever," and I agree. It makes me wonder, though, what if I had a turd of a baby? What if our baby behaved more like our Lhasa Apso (no offense, princess Paris)? I've had my share of breakdowns as a mother and Wearer of All Hats, but Reeve's especially calm and happy nature has helped me to not reach complete insanity. The "what if" lingers in the back of my mind, though, perhaps as a message of warning or a call for gratitude. Either way, I think this is how you get sucked into having multiple kids. For a few weeks, I was bound and determined to be the mother of ONE. Those first weeks were tough, I won't lie. We were trying to figure out breastfeeding and sleeping and just thinking straight. For the first time ever, I was convinced I wanted to have ONE child and ONE child only. Not because R was a bad baby, but because it's just a hard freakin' job, regardless if you are the mother of an angel baby or devil baby. It's difficult to go from "I" and "we" to "HIM." But time and prayer (LOTS of prayer) and understanding and SLEEP will eventually get you through those first weeks of adjustment. Then, you realize how much you love being a mom. Breastfeeding gets easier, the poop sessions become less frequent, you throw on a little bit of mascara and change out of your sweatpants and think, "Ok, maybe I'm not the world's worst mom." You decide that you could, one day in the faaaar future, possibly be responsible for another life. That's how you get tricked, and that's when the "what if" question presents itself. What if Reeve's good demeanor has spoiled me, and our next baby is a terror, and I lose my wits, and the poop hits the fan!? Then you look into the most beautiful eyes of the most perfect person ever created, and you realize that, even on the worst of the worst days, everything is and will always be worth it. This is NOT to say that we are planning to have another baby ANYTIME soon...but I'm trying to prove the point that being a mom is hard, but doable, and totally worth it.
Reeve is funny and smart. He loves to be scared. He loves when you wipe is face or pull clothes over his head. He loves to pinch his sister, and he is actually the only person who's ever gotten away with it. I hope that lasts. I think any day now he is going to roll from his back to his belly. He gets pretty dang close, but he gets stuck. Maybe I'll try to let him do it naked so he has more wiggle room. He sleeps from about 11-6 on a good night. On the worst night that we've had recently, he fell asleep at about 1230 and woke up a couple times after that. He can sleep until 11am or later. He is just like his mom, and I am not complaining one bit.
I've realized that it works best if I get my lazy butt up before he gets up so that I can have some time to myself (and Paris) before our days begin. Normally, I just make some coffee and watch Netflix and pet Paris, but sometimes I feel really domestic and do a load of laundry.
It's so nice to live on base because Derick works just five minutes down the road, and he comes home for lunch everyday. It's nice that Reeve gets that extra hour with him, and by that time, I really need to poop, so Daddy takes over.
Paris is slowly adjusting, and she gets better every day. She's always been extra kind to her brother, other than the occasional brisk sashay across his belly. She had a hard time in the beginning when I was alone and couldn't take her out to pee. A fence would have come in handy back then, but now that things are *a tad more* calm around here, we've figured out a slight routine, and she's doing better. I'm proud of my girl. She's very much a diva, and she was the only child for six years, so for her to do this well, I am grateful.
We've all changed by the presence of this little guy, but I think we are doing well. We are definitely having fun!!
Well, someone is ready for some attention, so excuse the errors. Editing is the last thing on my list. Right below shaving my legs. Have a wonderful weeeeeeeek:)
