Now seven weeks into life with two kids, I often get asked how things are going. “It’s hard,” I reply honestly. “Two kids is no joke!”
We are in it.
Having two kids is the hardest honor I’ve been blessed with. Somehow two feels like triple the work and I feel like I should need less help than I do. But I need help, and it’s chaotic and sometimes in the middle of the night while rocking an inconsolable, crying baby I’ll swear I can’t do it. But then the sun comes out and Maisley crawls into bed with the three of us and all is somehow alright.
I shower at strange times like two in the afternoon and “morning” is an abstract concept. One handed diaper changes and bouncing while eating have become the norm. Chasing Maisley (also the name of my next novel) with a Coura bear wrapped on my chest while our dog escapes to harass the neighbors is my new workout routine. There are significantly more highs and lows and we often experience an entire day of emotions before 10 am.
Maisley and Ryan have been spending more time together. Our relationship is changing and my attention is now split, but I keep reminding myself that the gift of a sister outweighs my absence at a few pool days and night-time routines.
It’s hard, but it’s the good kind of hard. The kind of hard that makes the good moments feel great.
Ryan and I are working as a team, more in sync than ever before. Rather than a zone defense against Maisley, we are now man to man. We zip around like two carefully trained soccer players, anticipating the other person’s next move (got the World Cup on my mind if you couldn’t tell). “I got the big one”, he’ll say. “I got the little one,” I’ll say. We each always have a job, ain’t nobody sitting on the sidelines.
We went to the park the other day and Ryan walked ahead of me with Maisley’s hand in his and a purple bubble wand peaking out of the back pocket of his Chinos. I told him he’s arrived as a dad. The other dad at the park chimed in, “I was thinking the same thing.”
Coura and I are as close as we could possibly be right now (aside from having her inside of me). She’s attached to me most hours of the day, but I sense that she’s enjoying it and needs me in a unique way. We both know it’s not forever, and I love getting to know her more and more everyday.
When Coura cries, Maisley comforts her saying, “It’s ok Coura Joan!” and sings her a special song: “Coura, Coura, Coura, Coura, I love you. I love you. You’re my little sister, you’re my little sister, I love you. I love you.” (Maisley also sometimes whacks Coura for no reason, but we’re focusing on the great moments in this half of the blog, right?).
We are in it. So if you need us, this is where we’ll be for a while (and I wouldn’t rather be anywhere else).