You wanna talk about how awesome your new baby is? I am all ears. You wanna talk about how grainy your new baby's poop is? Not so much. I am dealing with my own formula and poop issues. Thanks.
Sometimes I miss the nuances of being that new mom. The excitement when you figure something out, on your own, and it works. With the second, you know what works; with the third there is hardly any surprises; with the fourth... it comes back to you like riding a bicycle. Butt Rash that isn't getting any better? Make some Butt Balm.
You get the idea.
But with that first one, the one that gave you the title of Mommy, there is something that is just mystical about everything.
You don't yet know the magic words to shoo away the monsters that are in the closet or under the bed. You don't yet know the heartache when you send them to school for the first time. You don't yet know how proud you feel when they finally master something that have been working on. You don't yet know the way that a lost lovey makes you feel. You don't yet know what it feels like when they truly understand and utter the words "I love you"...
and "I hate you".
Not to say that each new baby is a blessing; not to say that your heart doesn't break when these things occur with the other children that you just so happen to be blessed with. But it's not as shiny. It's still awesome, and of course it's exciting because the new babe is saying it, but it doesn't have the same exact... what is the word I am looking for... newness. It's not exactly the same, but it's not completely different either.
Butter will be 10 on his next birthday. Everyday is something new with him. Banana is right behind him, and I do enjoy the fact that I can look at her and say, "I don't think so, your brother tried to pull the same stunt." It makes me feel powerful and all knowing... because I am in a way. Butter taught me. Butter more than likely got away with it because I didn't know any better, or I didn't catch on.
I love all of my babes... each and every single one of them. I do adore them when they need to crawl into my lap. I understand that they need to cuddle when they don't feel good. But there is something that is just that much more when Butter still needs me. I give it another year or two before he honestly believes that I am one of the dumbest humans to walk the planet.
And like always, he will take the lead and prepare me for when his brother and sisters start to feel that way too.