Last night when Roxanne woke me up at 2am with her teething pain, I was holding her and looking at how grown up she is getting. Admittedly, she is only 6 months old and it is probably silly to be thinking about the "old days," but she made this little gaspy sound that she used to make a lot when she was her little wrinkly and floppy new baby self. I thought about how tiny she was and how we could spend hours just snuggling and singing and being quiet and calm. I snuggled her closer thinking about what a mess I will be when she is going off to kindergarten for the first time, and, gasp, college. She is still a very laid back baby, and we still can spend a lot of time cuddling, especially since she is a breastfed baby. But she is more and more active, and more and more determined to see and do everything. Sometimes she continues to kick her legs and swing her arms even when she is nursing.
Justin and I are still trying to figure out if we want to have another baby, and if so, when. It's a big and important decision, and we're certainly not in a rush to make it, but there are moments, like when I bought Roxanne's big girl "convertible" car seat this weekend and I have to figure out what to do with the infant seat, when I feel a little more pressure to decide. But then I think about paying double day care, and trying to bathe two babies instead of one, and trying to get two little ones to sleep in their own room when I can't even get Roxanne out of my bed and into the crib. Whew. I do think that things just sort of happen when they are supposed to though. It's just worked out like that for us. And maybe once Roxanne is a big toddler with little time to snuggle up to her mama and stare into my eyes for twenty minutes at a stretch, I'll be ready to start all over with a new baby. Plus, I need a few more years to forget how horrible labor was. I did after all, swear to my OB during the second hour of pushing that I would never have another child.
No comments:
Post a Comment