Our Girls

Since my husband and I are about as patient as our toddler, just like we had done with Charlotte, we decided to find out at 15 weeks the gender of our second baby. Unlike with Charlotte, I allowed my mind to wander to the possibility of having a boy. The circumcision decision, tiny sailor outfits, you know the drill. Of course the great news is that there is no bad news. Two girls, or a girl and a boy, either option is life-changingly wonderful. The truth: we wanted another girl. Both of us. So when the tech said Charlotte will be getting a little sister, every member of my family was overjoyed.

As I am already versed in the inappropriate things people ask pregnant women, I’m bracing myself for the following questions:

1.       Will you try for a boy?

2.       Is your husband disappointed?

I think “trying” for a specific sex is absolutely ridiculous. We tried avoiding lemons and facing due North with a quarter moon in the sky, but somehow we ended up with another girl. Let’s just hope she likes sports and monster trucks.

In all sincerity, I asked my husband how he felt about having two daughters. His answer was simple and perfect: This is our family. Charlotte is the greatest part of our lives and soon there will be two of them. I cannot wait to see what our girls are into so I can be interested too. "Our girls", it has such a beautiful ring to it, doesn’t it?

I tried to imagine, if the tables were turned, how I would feel about having two sons. Perhaps, at times, a little ganged up on and I may fall into the toilet bowl in the middle of the night more often than not, but I would still love my life. Come September our little family will be our two (female) dogs, myself, my husband and our girls. I can think of no better man to be completely out numbered. And as I can personally attest, second daughters are just as fabulous as the first.

It's hard to imagine this kind of love times two.

The Top 5 Most Annoying Things about Prenatal Appointments

1). Urine Hell

“Did you bring a urine sample with you today?”

Yes, along with my 14 month old, I have brought along a cup of my pee, it’s in my diaper bag next to her sippy cup. Of course I don’t have one with me! But give me 30 seconds and I can wrangle you up some liquid gold, no problem, because if urine was currency, all pregnant woman would be millionaires. 

2). Weight Management

Make sure you eat lots of fruit and vegetables! For those lucky enough to crave beats or quinoa, congratulations you are already on your way to being a fabulous mother. For everyone else bagels, cheese, and anything doughy are all that manage to stay down. The concept of “eating for two” is over; they tell most women to gain between 10 and 30 pounds during their pregnancy. 10 pounds? That’s adorable.

3). Ultrasound with Attitude

Returning to that instrument of torture that is my pregnancy bladder, when they told me to hold my bladder for a full 2 hours before my 20 week ultrasound, I already knew I would have to cheat. Since I took anatomy in 5th grade, I forgot the ultrasound technician would have visual proof of my misconduct so she made sure to sigh loudly and say, “Looks like someone didn’t follow directions”. I didn’t realize every ultrasound came with free snark and sarcasm. Now you are a speaking my language.

Baby #2's glamour shot

4). Frequent Flyer

I wish there was a punch card for prenatal visits where on every 3rd visit they’d give me a free (let’s just say decaf) latte or something. While I appreciate the level of care, I’m sure the doctor gets equally annoyed hearing my complaints as I get answering the question, How are you feeling? Is there a motherly way of saying, “I feel like crap”? If so, I bet it can be found in one of those prenatal books written by a male doctor.

5). Dude, Where’s My Baby?

For as many viles of your blood and times your legs go in the stirrups, they might throw in a few more ultrasounds for compensation. I was shocked to learn that they only do two ultrasounds, the last of which is at 20 weeks. So for 20 more weeks you are at the mercy of your hormonal imagination where additional limbs are being sprouted or better yet a whole other baby that they missed because there were only two ultrasounds! 

If you haven’t guessed by this point, I’m pregnant again! The bad news is that it’s difficult to maintain accuracy while holding a toddler and aiming your throw up towards the toilet bowl. The good news, it should make for some very entertaining blogging material, enjoy!

Already bonding

The Toddler Dance

If there is one thing I hate more than anything it is the just you wait and see smug-mom look. This typically comes from moms whose babies are older than yours. I remember the first time I saw it. I had just joined my Mom’s Group and I naively asked what I had to look forward to. One mother quickly chimed in, offering advice and wisdom, as her toddler carefully sorted through grass and dirt and decided that the grass looked much more delicious. I’ve recently come to the conclusion that if I could go back in time, I’d definitely be the one giving myself that look. These days I have to ask, what in God’s name was so difficult about taking care of a baby? Let’s put the sleep deprivation aside for a moment and pretend that doesn’t exist (which is exactly how second babies are conceived). Babies cannot really do anything and they nap for over half of the day! 

Fast forward to full blown toddler-ville, where I don’t have to worry about Charlotte eating grass since she is terrified of it, but she did get stuck in the doggie door today, and she napped for a grand total of one hour and fifteen minutes.

Now, I obviously do know what was so hard about being the mother of a young baby. It was the lack of sleep, the baby's overwhelming dependency on you and the drastic life-altering reality that is new motherhood. With each stage there is a dance and no matter what, you will always feel like you’ve both arrived a few weeks late to the disco. Once you actually get into a groove, you are so gosh-darn proud you may even pat yourself on the back, just in time to watch ‘em hit a new milestone and oh so quickly, paradise is lost. Every stage has its challenges and rewards. I tend to look back and think that one had to be the toughest, then suddenly the dance changes and sure enough, I’m right back in the fetal position on the playroom floor, while Charlotte prances around me as we listen to the Raffi station on Pandora (visualize Max from Where the Wild Things Are). For all our missteps, the way my heart feels when Charlotte shares her joy with me, be it through books, songs, kisses, or her pure adoration of our dogs, it is absolutely worth it. So I can smugly say, with zero percent confidence, to all you moms whose babies are younger than mine, that the toddler dance is by far the hardest and most exhausting.

Me and my dance partner