Cecily. Geneva. Two Children!! I keep typing and deleting things I feel like saying about this precious baby and life as a mother of a newborn and a three year old. I don't really know where to start and what I might say just feels so scattered and random. I honestly think this is just my brain right now. It is usually occupied by the instinctual acts of caregiving toward the newborn and the constant question-answering and boundary setting directed toward the three year old.
Let me just start and see where it goes.
Cecily is sleepy- and mostly during the day. She sometimes has short periods of wake-time during a day, but then often is awake for several hours in the evening and late into the night. During these daytime sleepy periods, she cares some about eating, but often only gets in a little before dozing off again. I try and try and try to keep her awake longer but it usually feels like trying to wake a hibernating bear with a feather (impossible!). Around 5 or 6, she often wakes up to insatiable hunger that seems to last until 12-1am. She always wakes up sometime between 2:45-4:30 to eat before waking again at 7:30ish. She weighs over 12lbs. (This is 2-3lbs heavier than Geneva at this age). So, she is getting enough food. I am hoping that we can settle into a better pattern than sleepsleepsleep and then stay awake forever and eat constantly.
Maternity leave with Geneva: predictable, quickly routinized, plenty of sleep because of napping capability. "Maternity leave" with Cecily: Nonexistent. Period. It is actually more like having friends over for Geneva, taking Geneva places, playing games with Geneva, and having to be ok with little sleep. In between all that, Cecily is plenty fed, changed, hugged, kissed, and cooed over.
I never realized how impatient and controlling I was until I had two children. I have learned that a deep deep well of patience is required in order to get two children through the day successfully. I am sad to think about the times I hear the word "mom" and quietly take a deep breath or cringe before turning, smiling, and answering, "what?" or "yes, dear?" in a sweet, I am the patient mom you deserve kind of voice. Geneva does not see or hear my impatience, but I feel it more than I wish I did. Because honestly and truly, I feel so blessed but also so seriously committed to doing not just the best my imperfections are capable of in raising these babies, but the best that can be done. I will obviously fail in many ways, but I do not want to use my known imperfections as just causes for these shortcomings in motherhood. I want to do better than myself and my shortcomings. This daily act of trying to raise above myself while battling exhaustion and answering 1000 questions per day is extra-exhausting. But, as I have been given, by God, the gift of mothering, it is my duty and responsibility.
Many days, Greg comes home and I am starving because I have not taken the time to eat properly. I need to do better at prioritizing myself so I do not feel so run down by the time he comes home. I catch myself compulsively pouring attention onto Geneva. As soon as Cecily is asleep, I ask Geneva to get a book for us to read or offer to play with her. It is hard for me not to continue to treat her as if she is an only child.
I don't know how I will ever cook dinner again. I never realized what a saintly service it is when friends organize a meal program for a new mother. I will never ever miss an opportunity to make a meal for someone after they have a baby.
I fear that I am the first mother to feel so overwhelmed. Many people I know have happily and successfully raised more than two children. It makes me wonder all the time: WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?!
I am thankful that I only have one baby in diapers. I am also thankful to have such a sweet, caring, well-behaved preschooler. Trying as she can be, I know it is because she is three, super crazy verbal, and testing her independence. Other than those obvious obstacles, she is so so well-behaved and precious. I KNOW from being around other children that life could be so so much harder if she weren't such an angel underneath all that 3 year old craziness.
I am completely struck by how much Cecily looks like Geneva as a baby- only bigger and with darker hair. I never want to wish time away, but I am so interested to see if she still looks like her when she is a little older.
I love the idea of raising sisters and am excited to see their relationship grow.
Geneva mimics me and says things to Cecily like, "Hi Sugar Baby" in a really sweet voice. She is naturally caring and nurturing toward her. Pride comes through her voice when she tells me things like, "Mom, Cecily is being so brave getting her diaper changed."
I miss Greg. It seems that our time to connect, defuse, and discuss our lives has been reduced to the essentials. I miss our nightly chats and really want to work on setting aside some time together to keep communication lines open and strong.
Really off topic: I am not a good writer! I especially appreciate writers who are also mothers. Sometimes I cannot form a complete sentence when I am thinking about or trying to respond to both children at once, let alone even fathom composing a piece of literature or commentary worth reading.
Ok, see.. All over the map! This is probably why I tend to stare blankly or mumble incoherently when someone asks me how I am doing. The short answer is: I am doing great. I have been dearly blessed and am truly thankful for my healthy babies and the ability to take care of them. The long answer lies somewhere in this post. I love it. I am happy. I am thankful. But, it is hard. I feel like a completely different person than I was 3 months ago. Etc... (but you don't really want me to keep going).
Someday, somehow I plan on printing off this blog and compiling it into a book for our family as sort of a record of our young family. When my then more grown up girls read this, I hope they know how deeply loved they are and accept their mother honestly discussing her imperfections and the frustrations and growing pains during this phase in our family life.
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