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What a new child equals, or my new math.

1+1=mourning.  I am mourning the change in relationship with Norah.  We were two.  We spent days together.  She played independently because she knew I was right there anytime she needed me.  Now, she isn’t so sure I’m there for her.  And often I’m not.  So the independence is gone.  She wants to touch me all day long and sit right! beside! me!  Like right now.  Her little arms are wrapped around my arm and she keeps touching my hands as they type.  She is quieter.  With her forced smile that once only came out when her feelings were hurt and she didn’t want to cry.  Now it is here much of the day.  And it makes me incredibly sad–this change.  And I would like nothing more than to spend an entire day; just the two of us.  But now we are three.  And I am mourning.

1+1=guilt.  I cannot give 100% to both girls just now.  Ever?  Sometimes I take longer to soothe Cedar because I’m in the middle of tying Norah’s shoes or making her lunch.  And, more often, I’m telling Norah to “wait” or “do it yourself” or “be a big girl.”  I say “don’t” all the time.  For things that are inconsequential.

1+1=short fuse.  I cannot believe how thin my patience is right now.  Where is the gentleness?  I find myself snapping at Norah constantly.  Before sitting down to type this post, I threw Norah’s watering pot into a tree because she hit me with it (accidentally) and it woke the baby.  I don’t normally act that way!  And I am totally touched out.  I say “Baby, please don’t hug me right now” or “Honey, let go of me” twenty times a day as if adding an endearment makes it better.

1+1=extreme mommy brain.  Like the day I was feeding Cedar some donor breastmilk with a syringe and I sucked up coffee into the syringe instead of milk.  Don’t worry–I didn’t feed it to her!  Or the morning I taught Norah left from right but realized later I taught her backwards.  The best one:  this morning on the way to the park when Norah informs me that I forgot to put underwear on her.  And she’s wearing a dress. 

1+1=chaos.  No organization.  Very little accomplished.  Husband going in one direction with one child.  Me heading the opposite.  Exhaustion. 

I know it would be wonderful if I ended this entry with 1+1=twice the joy but right on time, Cedar is waking.  Twice the joy later…

7 responses »

  1. It really REALLY does get better! I promise! There where times Elly would sit on my back while I nursed Erin because she felt left out. Now, rarely do we have “jealousy” issues that cause her to cling to me like that. And the panties thing, oh my, I’ve left with Elly in a dress and no pull-ups (she doesn’t potty well away from home) so don’t let it get to you. You are an AWESOME mama, keep up the good work even though it doesn’t feel so good! 🙂

  2. It will be ok my friend…just chill. I can’t wait to see the girls!!!

  3. Ahh Julie, I feel for you. I’ll admit I laughed out loud at the part about you teaching Nora right and left backwards…I would do that without having momma brain! 🙂 Hang in there, His Grace is sufficient. And remember like Dr. Sears says, “Do the best you can with the resources you have. That’s all your child(ren) will every expect of you.” That’s good for all of us mommas to remember! Much love from crazy momma to crazy momma! 🙂

  4. I can relate to all those things… Sometimes when Suzi and Ivey are both happy (or at least both not screaming) I sit there and just soak up the wonderfulness of having two little girls. But other times, like this morning when all I wanted to do was put my nasty sinkful of dishes in the dishwasher and Ivey wouldn’t stop crying no matter what I tried… It’s tough. Or when I haven’t spoken to another adult all day, and one calls me on the phone but I can barely hear them because Ivey starts crying right after I answer, so they say “well I can tell you’re busy… later, bye!” I want to be nicer to Suzi and in a better mood when Jordan gets home. I also want to get more done. I love them both so much though and I know it’ll get better.

  5. I was wondering about that watering pot…

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