how's the big brother?

A lot of people ask me how Levi is doing with the new baby. I am happy to report that I think he is a really, really good big brother.

He is generally aware of Wendy's presence. Say she is in the next room, in her bouncy seat asleep while Levi and I are eating lunch. The moment she starts up her stretching, I'm-awake noises, he tells me "wake!" Wendy is awake.

When I ask if Wendy can read a story with us, he says "mm hmm, yeah." He lets me read his naptime story to him with Wendy on the other side of my lap. (Quite the sight, the three of us smooshed in a chair and me trying to turn pages.) A couple times she has slumped over onto his shoulder. Levi is not a particularly cuddly toddler, so I expected him to squirm. Instead, he looked down at her. Looked up. Looked down again, and let her be. When she lost her binky, he gently put it back in her mouth.

Levi understands that Wendy can't eat real food yet because she has no teeth. I am explaining that she has to cry because she can't talk yet. (He has been trying to get her to talk, though. He'll go over to her and just say "talk!") He has been patient when Wendy cries and I say "I need to help Wendy." One time he said "me do it. help Wendy." and he went to her, giggled her bouncy seat and walked away.

Sometimes he brings her toys, he shows her things. When she cries, he doesn't seem too distressed (which is really nice because two crying kids in a car is worse than one). He doesn't get jealous of me holding her, nursing her, etc. Even if he asks me to pick him up and I can't, he accepts my explanation that I can't because my hands are busy.

So all in all, I'm glad that Levi is doing as well or better than I could have expected from a 2-year-old!

the decisions we make

Right now, I'm in a "tired" phase of parenthood. Yes, middle of the night wakings are an obvious contributor to that, and recovery from childbirth, yes. But honestly, we get a decent amount of sleep and I've been lucky to have great help that got me through the first few weeks of recovery. The tiredness I'm thinking of must be a more emotional tired than a physical one. I think the reason this parenting gig can be so tiring is that I feel like every single little move I make has a large amount of reasoning and effort behind it.

It might not be visible to the untrained -- or toddler -- eye, but really, I feel like everything I do in regards to my kids has a hidden reason behind it.

• No Levi, you cannot have my phone right now (because I know that taking it away while you are in this mood will be more difficult than not giving it to you, because I don't want you to be tethered to the phone).
• Wendy baby, I can't give you your binky while I'm driving (because I can't reach safely and also because I don't want you to expect me to rescue the binky in the car all the time, if it's at all possible to get into a habit at this age). 
• Kids, we will talk quietly at bedtime and will not deviate much from the routines we set into place (because we know you like routines and because we believe a quiet routine will help you sleep better). 
• When I make a promise (like the promise that we will go to naptime in two minutes or the promise that we will watch a video as soon as we clean up toys), I will keep it (because I want my kids to trust me and understand follow-through). 
• I will make my own baby food for Wendy, as I did for Levi (because I enjoy cooking, I want her and Levi to see their parents cooking food at home so they learn how, because I found that Levi made the transition to healthy table food easily, because I once tasted a jarred turkey dinner baby food and I thought it tasted like dog food).
• I am going to make a commitment to keeping the house tidy and "clean" as much as is possible (because I don't buy into the "the dust will remain, but your kids will grow up" mentality, because we all live in this house and deserve it to be enjoyable, because I stay home with the kids all day and staring at clutter all day doesn't help me, because eventually it will catch up to us if we don't). 

I can't even think of all the examples right now, but it seems each moment is another choice in this choose-your-own-adventure thing we call parenting. I wish I could just eenie-meenie-miny-mo sometimes, but I just can't. I don't torture myself with the decisions I make or find myself wrestling with regret, but that's where a lot of my brain power goes these days. I have experienced the true cause of mommy brain!

not all hearts and flowers

Lest my paintbrush be laden with too rosy a hue, allow me to paint a picture of motherhood that comes from the -- what shall we call it? -- less glamorous side of the business. The lunch and naptime routine has been stressing me out recently. What am I supposed to do with the baby while I make lunch, feed/supervise toddler, and then put toddler down for his nap? If she's sleeping peacefully, that's great. But what if she's hungry? Or just plain fussy? I've managed for the past couple of days with a variety of techniques, and today I thought I was going to pull off the naptime routine while the baby was napping downstairs. No such luck. As soon as I pull Levi out of his high chair, I realize the clock is ticking so I give him his two minute warning. I think he realizes this is out of the ordinary, because he usually gets to play an extra 15 minutes while I clean up from lunch. But today I want him to go straight to nap so that I can get back downstairs before Wendy wakes up. Two minute warning is up, so I tell him to go upstairs. "NOOOooo!" He does NOT want to go upstairs. Now, if I were able to haul his 28 pounds up the stairs, I would and he would probably be ok with it. But I'm not going to do it since I'm still sore from the whole c-section thing and overdoing it will just put me further behind on recovery. So the battle of wills begins, and then Levi just starts crying. And crying and whining and generally carrying on. I decide that I'm just going to leave the room and let him finish his crying business before we try again. At this point, Wendy is definitely waking up and Levi is just wailing. I sit with Wendy until the noise from Levi subsides. I peek around the corner and see that he's now busying himself with wiping his nose (running from the crying) on his shirt. I'm not a fan of that, but I decide to wait it out until he's really done with his fit. Soon he rounds the corner, calling "mommy" very pathetically. I'm busy trying to change a poopy baby diaper, when I turn around and see that Levi's face is covered in blood. He points to his nose and says "bug" (which means he was trying to dislodge something up there). He was wiping so hard with his shirt, he gave himself a bloody nose. Poopy baby. Bloody toddler. Sigh. Eventually, after I clean him off and remind him to tell mommy about the bugs rather than taking matters into his own hands, I get him up the stairs. He's very tired for nap at this point, so the stairs takes a while. Wendy is in the baby carrier strapped to my chest. We get to Levi's room, I unstrap Wendy and put her on the floor with a binky. Put Levi on changing table. Wendy spits out binky. Re-binky Wendy. Change Levi. Wash hands. Re-binky Wendy. Put Levi in nap clothes. Put Levi in rocking chair. Get Wendy into her room and swaddle her like a burrito. Turn on noise machine. Go to Levi and read a story. (Good thing he picks a very sweet, endearing story about big brothers.) Put Levi down in his crib (which requires me maneuvering him as well I can by using mostly arm muscles, minimal ab muscles). Go get Wendy, take her downstairs and nurse her. Sigh. Must remember to accentuate the positive moments rather than the toddler fits and bloody noses. Must remember the moment instead when I asked if Levi wanted to hold Wendy, he said yes, then proceeded to hold up his shirt for her and say "milk." Much cuter moment for the day. Let's try to remember that one instead.