Katie at 2 was pretty easy. Now that she’s 3, she’s almost a teenager! (Okay, maybe we’ve got a ways to go till then but really, she’s growing up so fast.) No huge diaper bag to carry around, no problem getting her into her booster seat for a quick jaunt to the store or wherever, meals weren’t a challenge because she was entertaining herself as I cooked. I like 3. I wonder if we anticipated this when we thought about more kids.
“2” is the magic number. It’s also when a mommy and daddy start to talk about how nice it would be to experience the baby-ness of it all… all over again. How nice it would be to have a sweet, tiny, cuddly bundle to hug and hold, to experience all of the firsts we have already been through with Katie all over again, to … mix bottles of formula until your arm feels like it’s going to stay that way; change diapers so stinky you need to pull your shirt neck up over your nose just to stop gagging; pack the stroller, swing, walker, formula, diapers, wipes, bottles, blankets, burp cloths, outfits, backup outfits, socks, and realize once you get to where you’re going that you’ve still forgotten 10 things! Whew! (This is the reason for my somewhat… detailed.. packing list.)
Ahem… happy thoughts… ahh, here we go:
An independent 3-year-old also makes mommy’s heart melt with her kindness to her baby brother. The “hello”s she gives him when he’s getting fussy and mommy is making a bottle and can’t run over to do a funny dance or make a silly face just then, the pitter patter of her little feet as she runs to the bedroom to get a burp cloth or blanket, the gentle hand giving her baby brother a toy and so much more that make me so happy I’m part of the “club” of people who also have kids 3 years apart.
An independent 3-year-old like my sweet, wonderful Katie, can make mommy and daddy forget how much work a new baby is and will be, and remember how much I’ll miss it when it’s gone. In the earlier months, sitting up with Jake at night, I would eagerly anticipate being able to start him on milk instead of formula, sleeping through the night, hearing him talk for the first time. Now I realize that, at 6 months, he’s growing up too fast. He’s not the tiny bundle he was when we brought him home. He’s starting to reach for people to pick him up and he’s grabbing for what he wants. He can roll over and sit up by himself. He’s learning his way around his little world… I wonder how long it will take before he realizes that he and Katie are the center of ours.