Little Brother came along in late January and I've been running hard ever since. Big Sister has adjusted well to the addition, but it was a little touch-and-go for a while. Little has endured severe pats on the head, too-tight hugs and has literally been kicked when he was down. Tough boy, brother to a tougher girl.
I wish I could say I was closer to my heart's desire--to stay home with my kids--but I'm not. I've learned a lot on this journey so far, though:
- Having two kids is seventeen times the work of one. Or thereabouts.
- Boy babies are easier than girl babies. I heard this rumor once before, and now I'm a believer.
- I'm much more relaxed this time around than I was with #1. Perhaps it's experience, perhaps it's just fatigue. I suspect it's a combo.
- My husband is an awesome guy. He's taken to this kid raising thing well, and still manages to make me feel like a special lady. That is a wonderful thing!
I still have my dream of staying home with the kids, maybe having one or two more, growing my own veggies in the summer and homeschooling. Maybe it'll happen yet . . .
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'll be thirty this fall and I'm starting to feel less like a little kid, and more like an adult. When the heck did that happen?! When did my gray hairs become just a fact of life instead of an abhorrence? Not that I have so many, but they do stand out in dark brown hair . . . time to dig out the henna!
