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April 08, 2007
and then there were two
I feel as unfunny as lox. So much so that I have said “Hoppy Easter!” about fifty times today to various people, including the teenage girls at Dunkin Donuts who like, so didn’t have time for my dumb cheery crap. Good thing the Bean was with me, putting his mouth all over the edge of the counter and yelling that he couldn’t wait to go home to eat a donut he wanted one NOW. The teens found this adorable. I asked if they wanted him for a week, but I guess he wasn’t that adorable.
While I was attempting to give the Bean away to donutfolk, his dad and sister slept in, unhinged by work (dad) and each other (both. Actually, all of us, to an extent.) Preliminary second baby report: overall, Miss Missy is a good girl, a champ eater, a solid sleeper and an enthusiastic if noisy snuggler. Interesting baby fact: they use their heads to hitch themselves around. When Miss is lying on your chest, if you have not positioned her just so, she heads her way higher up your torso until she can jam her unformed cranium into your throat, then croaks out a series of high-pitched, drawn-out squawks until she falls asleep. We call this move The Pterodactyl.
In husband news, he has a new fitness regime planned that involves a thick-handled metal medicine ball from Russia – a kettlebell! Now that the weather is getting warmer, he intends to heave kettlebell around in the backyard while yelling “Comrade!” just like the man in the (included) instructional video. I blame the movie 300, which he has forbidden me to see as he fears I would find the men a little too wahka-wahka with their thick, kettlebelled torsos and their fighting. So far the kettlebell has rested stoically on the floor of our bedroom, where I’ve kicked and cursed it 300 times, easy.
Shot through with hormones, I’m still sorting through my feelings of motherhood redux. I’ve been told that when you have a second child, you suddenly find more room in your heart to love them both the same. But I’ve found this to be untrue. I described it to my husband as, while I love Missy in all the ways you love a baby (because she is small and defenseless and smells newborn etc.), I am in love with the Bean because of his sense of humor, his weirdly husky voice pronouncing usually “oosually” and something “humpthing” and his ass-kickingly long eyelashes that he flutters against mine when I pin him down for butterfly kisses. The love is there and it may be equal, but there is nothing similar about it. It’s as separate as these two little faces, as limitless and all defining.
Posted by Max at 10:07 PM | Comments (2)