Jul
10
” . . . up.”
“Up. Up.”
grunt grunt grunt grunt
“UP!”
” . . . ”
“Up! Up! Up! Up! Up! Up! Up! Up! Up! UPPPPP! UUUUUUUUUUUUUUP!”
*boost*
“!!!!”
” . . . ”
” . . . ”
“. . . Doon.”
” . . . ”
“Doon! Doon! Doon! Doon! Doon! Doon! Doon! DOOOOOON! DOOOOOOOOOOOOOON!”
echo This is an infinite loop goto START
Jul
8
I recently did some tongue-lolling, finger-counting math and realized that when Riley was about the same age Dylan is now—a little older, but not much—I was newly pregnant. I found this so hard to believe I actually had to go back to my own blog to check the dates because surely I was forgetting a year or two in there? I mean, there’s no way in hell I actually got pregnant on purpose when I was already spending my every waking hour chasing a squirrel-cheeked WMD around, right? But it’s true, I DID, and not only that, but it took me several months months to get knocked up, so the even crazier part is that we started gunning for WMD #2 when Riley was, like, barely walking.
I’m not sure why I can barely wrap my head around this concept. Maybe it’s that life with two kids is so much harder than one, or maybe it’s that I know we’re done now and the entire notion of pregnancy has moseyed back into the realm of Oh HELL No, but looking back on that choice from this perspective is like fondly recalling that one time I decided to climb Everest. Without oxygen. Naked.
Which is to say, I can’t believe my husband wasn’t kissing my ass every second of every day during that second pregnancy (theme: No One Gives a Shit About Your Myriad Physical Complaints This Time), because that was some hardcore shit right there. If I think raising a tiny demented toddler is brain-searingly difficult now, I’ve totally blocked out the experience of doing so while my body was also busy, you know, creating an entirely new human being. I never properly appreciated my ability to multi-task, nor did I take the time to congratulate myself for surviving what was surely a near-deadly combination of life’s blessings.
I’m sure there will come a point when I miss having little babies, and maybe even wistfully long for the riotous flatulence of pregnancy, but these days I am leaning closer towards the sweet nature of my boys growing up. I feel like I keep getting a glimpse of what’s to come, and there’s this whole amazing new landscape to be discovered. If it wasn’t exactly the easiest path to get here, I’m still so glad we took it. I’m sure it will always be hard, I’m sure there will be a thousand new challenges in our future. But for every moment thus far that’s shaken me to my core with happiness, I suspect the best times are still to come.
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