Please Don't Tell Me I'm a Supermom

When I tell people I've gone to the store, or out to eat, or made dinner, or gotten a few hours of work done, or some other apparently monumental task while being responsible for all four of my kids, I get exclamations of amazement. "You're a supermom!", they'll say. Or, "I only have two, and I can barely manage most nights!" Or, "I don't know how you do it!" I know these are meant as compliments and are honest reactions to something outside their own frame of reference. And I appreciate them as such.

But it makes me uncomfortable just the same. Because secretly, deep down, it releases all kinds of insecurities. All I can think of is all the things I've done wrong, the mistakes I've made, the things I wish I had managed to do. I berate myself for not paying enough attention to the kids, for letting them fend for themselves while I work in another room, or, conversely, for spending a few hours with them instead of working a few more hours to pad my paycheck. Or, for neglecting both work and kids to sit on the toilet and play Candy Crush in private. I should hold my baby more, hug my five-year-old more, draw with my toddler more, and read with my seven-year-old more. I should put the phone down during dinner and make them tell me about their day. I should try harder to get the toddler to take a regular nap. I should get the middle two dressed before noon. I should take them to the park more so they can run around on sunny days. I should replace their bike helmets and let them out front to ride. I should fold their laundry. I should wipe down the kitchen counters, sweep the floor of the toddler's food-leavings, and change the baby's diaper and give him a bath.

I see other people accomplishing things I haven't been able to, and I think I have no right to those compliments. I'm not "doing it all." I'm not a supermom. And when you tell me I am, you're belittling yourself. You're negating all of the amazing things you've managed to do, like have a dance party in the living room and do an art project with your preschooler, like cook healthy meals all week long, get your car washed, and clean your toilets. Like sign your second-grader up for soccer, acquire all the gear he needs, and attend all his games. Like save up for two years to take the family to Disneyland. Like start your own business and run it successfully, work full time outside the house and still get the laundry folded and the lawn mowed, and remember to pick up a birthday present for the party this weekend.

I'm just a mom. Some things, I know I do well. Some things, I know I could improve. And, looking at you, looking at how well dressed you are, how neat and clean your house is, how you make healthy meals all the time and get your housework done regularly and limit screen time to just the weekends, and have money left in the bank at the end of the month, some things make me feel very, very inadequate. Not because I think you're judging me, but because I'm judging myself.

Please don't tell me I'm a supermom. I don't feel all that super, and I don't have a cape. Sure, I made it to the grocery store, but I nearly lost the stroller, forgot to buy half the things we needed, and left the reusable bags at home. Yeah, I got the oldest to school on time, but the other three are still in pajamas and the toddler's diaper needs changing. Absolutely, I made dinner and put the dishes in the dishwasher, but I didn't make them clean up their toys, there are shoes everywhere, and the baby is crying in his swing while I rinse the last of the dishes.

No one's life is perfect. I think as moms we only see our own shortcomings while we admire the accomplishments of all moms around us. I'm wondering how she can remember to put jackets on both of her kids and manage to keep them from running around screaming in the store, while she's wondering how I can load four kids into the car in half the time it takes her to put her two in. I'm wondering how she finds the time to make dinners from scratch every night and keep the living room free of clutter, while she's wondering how I can work part time from home with three kids in the house.

I'll tell you what, if you buy the capes, I'll wash them. But don't blame me if I forget to put them in the dryer.

Adjusting to a Second (or Third, or Fourth) Baby

While there is always plenty to worry about when you're pregnant, you'll have different concerns when you're pregnant with your second (or third, or fourth...) than you did with your first. When you've already had a baby, your life has already adjusted to the presence of a child. But now you need to adjust your older child(ren) to the presence of a sibling, and you have to figure out how you are going to care for yet another child. Here are some of the common concerns parents have when adding a new baby to the family.

What if I don't love my new baby as much as I love my son/daughter? 
This is one of the most common questions I hear from second-time moms who are expressing their worries about the impending birth of their next child. The overwhelming love we experience when our first baby is born is indescribable, and we worry that it can never be matched. Fortunately, love is not finite, nor is it parceled out. Bonding with your first baby left physical changes in your brain that mean bonding with your next will happen in just as breathtaking a fashion. Love expands into a bubble that encompasses every child together and each child individually. You may not love your second in the same way that you love your first, but the quantity and quality will not be in any way diminished. Finding that each of your children is an individual with different needs for attention, affection, and interaction brings a whole new dimension to the overall love you will feel for your family as a whole and for each child. And the love between siblings gives your heart a whole new reason to swell.

What if I love my new baby more than I love my older child?
This is a different sort of worry. You know you love your child, but maybe you had trouble forming a bond the first time. Maybe the birth was traumatic, maybe you were separated for a hours or days, or maybe you were so befuddled and overwhelmed by the addition of a new baby to your little family that you took a few days or weeks to feel the kind of love you were looking for. What if, this time, you bond faster, your love is stronger? It is, in fact, likely that you will bond faster with subsequent children than you did with your first. While some parents had no trouble bonding the first time, it is very common, too, for it to take a little time to understand how this new little person fits into your world. Rest assured, your capacity for loving your children is not limited or finite, and you will find that as you experience a new bond with your baby, your bond with your older child will increase as well.

The baby will require so much attention. I don't want the older sibling(s) to be jealous.
Yes. The new baby will require a great deal of attention. This is true. And you will be tired and overwhelmed and discombobulated. And your other child(ren) will still need you for diaper changes, potty help, baths, reading books, helping with homework, meals, laundry, and everything else you already do for them. And it is entirely possible that they will get tired of hearing, "Mommy (or Daddy) will be with you in a few minutes, just as soon as I finish feeding/bathing/holding the baby." Remember, though, that a lot of the attention the new baby needs at first is fairly passive. Nursing (or giving a bottle), holding and rocking, carrying around, keeping an eye on, are all things you can do while you give attention to an older child. Your older child can cuddle with you while you nurse the baby. One great bit of advice that many new parents find helpful is to set up a "nursing basket." Put together a box or basket of special books, toys, and movies that you can engage in with your toddler or preschooler whenever you sit down to feed the new baby. Your older child will still get to spend quality quiet time with you, and may even begin to see nursing-the-baby time as a special Mommy time for him/her, too. In addition, make sure your older child(ren) get a chance to hear you say, "Hold on, Baby, your brother needs my help first." Let him know that he's not always going to be second to the needs of the baby. Also, if you can, arrange for regular one-on-one time with the older child with one parent or the other.

A second bit of advice that works well for toddlers is to have the "baby" give the older sibling a gift. When the baby is born, you'll likely receive gifts for yourself and for the baby. Store away something in advance that the baby can give to his big sister or brother. Also, if you can enlist a relative or two to give the big sibling a gift (even something small), she or he will feel less left out of the excitement.

Another part of this equation is giving your older child(ren) the chance to become helpers and caregivers for the new sibling. I have found that this facilitates the sibling bond and makes the older child feel needed and special, too. Give them a "job" (equal to their abilities, of course). "Can you help me out and be such a big girl? Can you run upstairs to the baby's room and get Mommy a diaper? I think the baby needs a change." It may sound corny, but if you make your child feel like she is the only one who can do this monumental task to help you and the baby out, she will be full of pride. And if she doesn't want to help you, no big deal. She'll still appreciate that you asked her. Another way a verbal toddler or preschooler can be of great help is by "watching" the baby for you. When the baby is in a safe place such as a swing or on a blanket on the floor, if you're trying to accomplish something like fold laundry or make dinner, ask your older child to watch the baby. Have him sit down beside the baby and talk to him, keep him company, try to make him laugh. Make sure you've already established boundaries like no touching the baby's face and no trying to pick up baby, of course, for safety. Make sure he knows what a great help he's being.

It takes me 10 minutes to get out the door with just one kid. How long will it take with two?!
You'll find that because you've already got experience with packing up a diaper bag and getting everyone dressed and ready to go, adding a baby to the mix likely won't end up doubling your "out-the-door" time. Certainly, at first, you will need to leave yourself extra time to get where you're going. In my experience, it's always just as you're about ready to leave for an appointment that the baby poops and needs to eat. But getting everything else ready shouldn't take too much more time than it already does. Snacks, diapers, wipes, change of clothes for the older one (as needed), diapers, wipes, change of clothes for the younger one (and bottles if applicable) all go in the bag, and off you go. Some people find it easier to keep two bags ready, one for the older child and one for the baby, although I find this just means more to carry and keep track of. If your older child still needs to be carried out the door and into the car, leave the baby in a safe place in the house (already buckled in the infant car seat, for example), run the toddler out to the car, buckle him in, then go back for baby. I find that if I start encouraging the older child to be able to walk out to the car and climb in before the baby's born, while I can help him figure it out, getting everybody in is much quicker once you're juggling more than one child. This, of course, depends on your older child's age and abilities. Of course, if you live in an apartment or have to park on the street or have another circumstance where something like this scenario isn't realistic, you'll find a way to make it all happen. You've already worked out how to get one kid out safely, after all!

How will I manage bedtimes, naps, and errands?
I like to plan ahead and understand how the bedtime routine might change, where I'll put everyone when I go grocery shopping, and when and how everybody will get the naps they need. The thing is, it's hard to really plan ahead for any of this, because you have to see how your older kid(s) will react to the new baby, you have to see what the baby's needs are, and you need to know how much help you'll have in terms of other adults around. If you can share the bedtime routine between both parents, then I'd start making any necessary transitions at least a few weeks, if not a few months, before the baby is born. If Mommy usually cuddles with the toddler until he falls asleep, can Daddy do it now instead? Or can you help the toddler learn to fall asleep on his own, or after just a few minutes of cuddles? If you are alone with your kids at bedtime and you're used to "doing it all," you may have to improvise. At first, you can likely just hold and/or feed the baby while you do any book reading, cuddling, and so forth. If your baby is fussy or needy right around your older child's bedtime (which is common!), this may be more difficult. I find that it's usually helpful to get the older child to bed and then deal with the baby, if that's possible.

Naps are really the place where the younger sibling will suffer. I've been in the situation where the toddler's nap falls exactly between the baby's naps, and I feel like I can't ever leave the house because one or another of my kids is supposed to be sleeping. Unfortunately, it may happen that your baby becomes a slave to the routine and schedule you've already established. If that means baby naps in the car or during errands, at least he's getting some sleep, right? If you can baby-wear and/or arrange to take your longest car trips when baby needs to sleep, you'll at least be able to ensure that she's getting some nap time in, even if naps aren't always in bed!

As for errands, baby-wearing will be your friend, here, too. If you have a toddler who still needs to sit in the cart, for example, you can wear the baby and still put the toddler in the cart. Some of the larger stores have carts that can accommodate more than one child at a time, but in a regular grocery store, you may not have any other options. It is dangerous to prop the infant car seat on the child seat in the cart, so I don't recommend doing that, regardless of how many children you have. One thing I used to do when my third was born was take all three of my kids shopping. My oldest was capable of pushing the baby in his stroller while my middle sat in the cart, which I pushed. My oldest really liked having that important job to do. Better still is if one adult can run to the store while the other stays with the kids! Or take just one kid with you on errands and make that a special one-on-one time. Maybe you can get ice cream or buy him a special treat once in a while if he comes with you, so that he'll see that he still gets a fun time alone with Mommy or Daddy.


The best observation I can make is that, yes, the first several weeks will be a period of adjustment. You'll fumble with figuring out how to integrate the new baby into your routine. You'll have to figure out how to meet the baby's needs without depriving your other child(ren). You'll have to get used to dividing your time and attention. Your older child(ren) will likely act up or behave strangely because they will also be affected by the change in their routines and their lives. They'll notice that you are not as readily available to them. They'll be aware that things are different now. Be sure to acknowledge those feelings. Also, know that things will get easier. You will adjust. Your family will adjust. Give it some time and get a little creative, and, most of all, take what help you can get!

Enjoy your growing family!

What tips do you have for parents adjusting to the birth of a subsequent child? How did you help your older child(ren) get used to having a new baby in the house? How did you integrate the new baby into your established routine and busy day-to-day lives?

This, Too, Shall Pass, and Other Wisdom

I find myself, with about eight weeks left of this pregnancy, suddenly terrified of having a newborn again. This happens with each consecutive child. I cycle from excited, to thinking we must be crazy, to content, to excited, to terrified, to content, to excited, to OMG WHAT WERE WE THINKING?, then back to excited, then content, then terrified.

Part of it is our kids are spaced just-so, that we finally are at a point where sleep is basically working, routines are basically established, everybody's got some level of independence, and I feel like I'm in the groove, and then we throw another newborn into the mix and everything gets thrown out of whack again. And this being my fourth time through the ringer, well, I kind of do know what to expect.

In some ways, knowing what to expect is comforting. I know what to do with a newborn. I know phases start and phases end. I have almost seven years of watching kids grow up under my belt and have been through sleeplessness and teething and illness and firsts and potty training and nightmares and picky eating and tantrums and I know that "this, too, shall pass" is an absolute mantra of parenting. I know I can stick it out for a little longer until one problem ends as suddenly as another begins. I can pass along the sage wisdom of, "Just when you think you have it all figured out, they change it up on you again," and I can remember it for myself. I know that "do what works," "wait it out," and "give it another couple weeks" are absolute truths. I know that every kid is different, that every baby needs love, and that I have the strength and capacity to make it through this hour, this day, this week.

But in other ways, knowing what to expect is terrifying! I know about the sleepless nights, the crying for no reason (both me and the baby!), the stress of feeding issues and poo-splosions. I know about the pain of recovering from childbirth. I've experienced the complexities of balancing the needs of the older kids and the baby, and the sheer exhaustion of new parenthood. (And it's still new, even when it's for the fourth time.) I know about the disruption of routine, the randomness of life with a newborn, and the stress of evening fussiness. I know that sleepless nights and teething woes are once again on the horizon.

I find I do have a longer view than I used to. I'm already thinking about next fall, when my second will start kindergarten, my third will be three, and the new one, who is right know kicking and dancing within me, will be almost one. Because I can envision that, when it used to seem impossible that my kids would ever grow up, grow bigger, start school. It used to feel like toddlerhood was forever, that I'd be always wiping butts and noses (not simultaneously), cutting up food into tiny pieces, and washing sippy cups. Now I see that it is not. That life will change. That one day my days will be my own (except for school breaks and sickness), that my kids will be helpful in stores, that I won't have car seats to buckle or diapers to change, that I won't have to supervise trips to the bathroom, that as suddenly as life changes when you give birth, life gradually evolves again as that baby becomes a little person who walks and talks and has opinions all his own.

So, I'm terrified of the short term, of what I know is coming in the next few months and years. But I'm excited, too, about the long term, of watching another bright soul come into his own, of seeing our once-little family become huge and full of life and noise and warmth and love.

To those of you out there with one little one, or two little ones, who see life at knee-height, whose days are full of poop and whose nights are empty of sleep: give it a few weeks, months, a year. Life will expand. Your kids will grow. You will grow. You have the strength to make it through this hour, this day, this month. And while you may not look back fondly on every tantrum (yours or theirs), you'll look back and know that the weeks are shorter than they seem and that the months go by faster than you could ever have imagined.

Girl or Boy? Why Does Everyone Else Care More Than I Do?

Tomorrow, May 30, is the "big ultrasound," where we'll (hopefully) finally find out whether I'm carrying our first girl or our fourth boy. While some families choose to wait for the birth and let the baby's gender be a surprise, we've always liked to know at the major anatomical ultrasound (which is usually done between 18 and 20 weeks). I've been known to say that if peeing on the stick could not only confirm the pregnancy but tell me the gender, I'd be happy! My husband always says that it's a surprise whether you find out at the ultrasound or at the birth, and we both like having that time to talk about names and get mentally prepared for the actual baby who is coming. I find it makes the pregnancy more real to me and helps me begin to bond with the baby growing within me.

(G's ultrasound pictures)

So far, we're three for three, reliably producing adorable little boys. At each new pregnancy, friends, family, and strangers express genuine curiosity as to whether we're "hoping" for a girl, "trying" for a girl, or if we'll "keep trying" for a girl if this next one is another boy. Indeed, it seems like everyone around us is more excited and more curious than we are about the gender of this fourth baby! It's not that I don't want to know, and it's not that I'm not excited about the baby, and it's not that I will be disappointed either way. It's just that I don't understand why everyone else seems to have invested so much emotional energy in my pregnancy! It's nice that people care so much, don't get me wrong, but is it fair to the baby I'm actually carrying to hope so strongly for one gender? What if it's not what you're hoping for?

I think it's fair to suffer a fleeting moment of disappointment or grief if you never get the son or daughter you've always dreamed of having. I know people who wanted only sons, people who wanted only daughters, or people who yearned for one of each. Usually, once you're holding your sweet little one in your arms, you're thrilled with whatever you've got, but that doesn't mean you might not wonder what it would have been like if the X had been a Y, or vice versa. It is not fair to the child you have, however, to wish he was a she, or she was a he. We have to take people as they are, and that includes our children! Sure, I had "planned" to have a girl first, but when N came along, I couldn't imagine life any other way.

My husband and I are fairly certain we're having another boy. I've been consistently using "he" when talking about this baby, when before I've been hesitant to use a gender pronoun until we knew for sure. According to this site, if you have three boys, you have a slightly increased (more than 50%) chance that the fourth will also be a boy. You hear people toss out stats like, "Oh, the chances of another boy are 70% if you already have three," but this is apparently not supported in the data. Still, it does seem to me like some couples may be more predisposed to one gender than the other. Who knows? Obviously, there are plenty of families with three of one and one of the other, but then you get the stories about families with six boys and one girl, or seven girls and one boy, and so on, and it makes you wonder.

Ever since I found out my first was a boy, I've assumed that at some point in the future, I'd have a daughter. It just seems...normal. But after I found out G was a boy, I became fairly content with the whole situation. I realized I was kind of relieved. I already know how to "do" a boy. I understand them. I have the clothes and the toys. And, let's be honest, here, I'm not exactly "girly." I don't wear makeup. I don't get my nails done. I don't do my hair. I'm not a tomboy, but I'm not well versed in a lot of "feminine" activities, either. I'm terrified that if I did have a girl, she'd be "girlier" than me! I'm terrified of female puberty, of girl drama, and of body image issues. And, to be crude, as many have said only half-jokingly, when you have a boy, you have only one penis to worry about. (Okay, so I have three, and possibly four, but you get the point.)

So, I'm pretty much at peace this time. If it's another boy, which I'm willing to assume it is at this point, then I'm happy. If it's a girl, I'll be shocked but happy. I don't see us continuing to "try" for a girl. I can't predict how I'll feel about it in five years, but right now, I don't feel like I need "one of each" for a complete family. Our family will be complete because we'll have the kids we're supposed to have.

Until I'm ready to reveal the results of the ultrasound scheduled for tomorrow, go ahead and make your predictions. I'm curious as to what my readers think! If you want any data from me besides knowing that we already have three boys, assuming it's not invasive information, go ahead and ask. Have fun guessing, and we'll see what happens!

For some thoughts on the flip side of the equation, a while back Jessica at The Leaky B@@b shared her thoughts on having 5 girls when she was pregnant with her sixth, and how it feels to be asked if she wants a boy - and how it feels for her daughters!

Now, granted, N and S have both expressed their desire for a sister, although I'm not exactly sure if they're able to verbalize why they want a sister. Still, it's super cute, and I know that my boys will be awesome big brothers whether this little one is a boy or a girl.

Tales of the Runaway Toddler, Grumpy Old Man Edition

The other day, I bravely took all three kids to Barnes & Noble by myself. I say bravely because GI is in a running-away stage. I can't just carry him - he's 25 pounds - and he's not content to be carried or sit in a stroller all the time anymore. He struggles and screams and wants to run around. So I let him. Which means I have to chase him. Which means leaving the other two to their own devices for a moment or forcing them to chase GI around with me.

So, Barnes & Noble. They've added a toys and games section, which is awesome, because they have some really great toys and games. My kids received Hannukah gelt from my aunt, who instructed them to each get a toy and a book with the money. B&N was an obvious place to go, and less intimidating than Toys R Us. I was following GI around the toddler toys aisle, and I stopped to look at a toy. When I looked up to keep following him, he had vanished.

Panic.

The problem with toddlers is that they're short. And quicker than you think. And totally unaware of danger.

Sure, he looks innocent enough here. 

But let him loose in a bookstore and see what happens!

I told NJ and SB to STAY BY THE TRAIN TABLE and started asking other people in the toy section if they'd seen a baby. One mother offered to help look for him, which I gratefully accepted. Suddenly, a teenage boy came up to me and asked if I was looking for a baby. His mom had been tracking GI for me and had sent him to see if he could find a mom looking for a baby. WHEW. Sure enough, GI had made his way to the front of the store and was gleefully running through the business section while the teenager's mother followed. I thanked her profusely, and she explained that she hadn't wanted to pick him up in case someone thought she was trying to make off with him. I kept a much closer eye on him after that.

And then we had to stand in line to pay. I had somehow miscalculated how many hands I am currently in possession of. I was carrying a game of "Sorry!", 6 Magic Treehouse books, two picture books, a stuffed Dalek (yes, you read that right), a wooden train, an Etch-a-Sketch, and a Batman Lego set. And a 25-pound toddler. Something had to give. And the line was long. It became a choice of drop-the-toddler or drop-the-mound-of-toys-and-books, and I chose to put the toddler down before it got any worse.

MISTAKE.

I watched GI run away again, with clear instructions to NJ and SB to STAY WITH HIM. He went immediately to the front doors, because obviously the parking lot is a much more fun place than the cash register line. Fortunately, a collection of friendly adults, plus his big brothers, worked to keep him inside the store while I anxiously willed the cashier to finish my transaction. I indicated my distress by pointedly glancing toward the doors repeatedly, saying I was worried that my toddler was going to run away, and dancing from foot to foot in a manner quite similar to the Potty Dance. (I should add that I could see the doors from where I was standing. The kids were not out of my sight, just out of my reach for the moment.)

And then I was free, with two big bags of stuff.

I rushed to the doors, where SB and NJ were casually watching GI as GI casually watched the doors, waiting for his chance to escape. An old man said to me, "Is this your baby? He almost got his arm cut off! You weren't paying any attention to him!"

Taken aback but actually rather focused for a change, I responded, "I was paying attention to him. I sent these two to watch him while I finished checking out."

"These two were supposed to be watching him?" he sneered. "They weren't doing a very good job."

And here's where I'm very proud of myself. Instead of escalating, I simply said, "Thank you for keeping an eye on him. I appreciate the help." And we left.

I made NJ carry a bag so I could carry the wayward toddler.

In retrospect, I could have - and probably should have - asked the cashier to wait a moment while I rescued GI, then held him while we completed the transaction, but by the time we finally got to the almost-done stage, my arms ached with fatigue and I didn't think of it.

Next time, I'm taking the stroller. Or a leash. Or both. And maybe another adult or two.

Or maybe I won't go back there until GI is old enough to understand, "STAY BY THE TRAIN TABLE."

Or I grow another arm.

By the way, stuffed Dalek!

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Also, please remember to check out smallnest, Jessica on Babies's first sponsor. It's a great new app for iPhone, iPod, and iPad, and it has some really interesting features that make baby care a little bit easier to track. First of all, it has a very simple, clean interface that takes no time to learn to use. Record feeds (breast, bottle, and solids), diapers, and sleep. The most exciting feature of this app is its ability to connect all of your baby's caregivers. By linking the app with your Facebook account, you can invite other caregivers, like Daddy or a nanny, to download the app to their device as well, and then they also can track feedings, diapers, and naps. This information is then shared to all devices that are connected to that particular baby, so all of the caregivers have all of the information. Plus, you can leave your phone downstairs and put the information into your iPad that you left by the bed, instead of worrying that you've left your device somewhere when it's time for a feeding. Click through and check out the app!

A House Full of Boys

This is my 100th published post! Taking suggestions on how to celebrate!

Also, I'm very excited to announce that my book, The "Yes, It's Normal!" Guide to Breastfeeding is now available for purchase in paperback through Amazon for $9.99.

And now, onto the post!

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Often, when I first meet someone and introduce my three boys, the question immediately following, "How old are they?" is, "Are you going to have another?" or "Are you going to try for a girl?" I wonder why this is. Are my baby-making plans up for public discussion? Why such intense interest in what should be an intimate process between my husband and me? I mean, sure, if I were already pregnant with another, asking if I'm hoping for a girl would be understandable, but to ask if we're "planning" to have another, or "trying" to have another? One person even went so far as to offer advice on how to increase our chances of conceiving a girl!

I don't know if the fact that we have three in relatively quick succession (26 months and 32 months apart) makes people assume that we're not planning to stop at three, or if the fact that they're all boys make people assume that we had a third because we were trying for a girl, or if the fact that we're still relatively young (and I apparently look younger than I am) makes people assume that we'll just keep on letting them come until they stop on their own. We have used birth control in the past, our kids were planned (yes, all three), and we didn't keep going because we were "hoping" for a girl.

Full disclosure, until the 20-week ultrasound with each of the three pregnancies, I was sure I was having a girl, and I admit to slight disappointment at first upon finding out they were boys. Well, with GI, it wasn't so much disappointment as genuine surprise and a bit of relief. At least, by then, I knew what to do with a boy and had all the requisite clothing and gear. I do want a daughter. I've always fantasized about raising a girl. On the other hand, now that I have boys, the idea of having a girl terrifies me, because it seems like girls are way harder to raise.

Though it isn't really anyone's business, my husband and I have always talked about having four kids. Now that we have three, a fourth seems inevitable. But as for when, well, isn't that kind of a personal question? Do you need to know whether I'm using birth control or what kind? Do you need to know how often we're "doing the BD," as they say in trying-to-conceive parlance? Do you need to know if we've yet had success? I don't really think so. I promise, when and if I get pregnant, you will know about it as soon as it's appropriate to say so. Or until I can't hide it.

As for "are you going to try for a girl?", that isn't exactly fair to my boys, is it? There isn't a day that goes by that I'm not grateful to have my boys. I've never once wished that any of them was a girl. I've never tried to imagine how life would be different if we had a girl or two or three. In fact, in some ways, I feel like the fact that we've been blessed with boys is a sort of tap on the shoulder from G-d. "You are meant to mother boys," He tells me. "You will raise your sons to be men who respect women, love Judaism, and be sensitive and gentle fathers." They have their father as an excellent example of what a man should be and how a man should act. They have both of us to teach them to love Judaism and want a Jewish home when they grow up. If we end up as a house with four sons, then at least by now I know what to do with a boy. And if I've proven myself a worthy mother of boys and G-d chooses to bless us with a daughter, I will be even more grateful for her, and she will be lucky to have three older brothers to protect her. What could be better than that? And what mother could be luckier than I, that one day I could potentially have four excellent daughters-in-law, to love and cherish and to bring her beautiful grandchildren?

When confronted, then, with the questions, "Are you going to have more?" and, "Are you trying for a girl?", I really don't know what to say, except, "We'll see what happens," and "It's not up to me." Because it isn't. Not really.

How to Baby-Proof, or You Can't Baby-Proof a Three-Year-Old

You would think baby-proofing would get easier the more kids you have, because you already know what needs doing. You would be wrong. It's harder. Much harder.

When you have your first baby, and that first baby shows signs of crawling and exploring and putting everything in his mouth and pushing the buttons on the Xbox and stealing things out of your pantry and flushing things down the toilet, you go around and remove or prevent access to anything he shouldn't have. You might start off with a few baby gates, some closed doors, and a Play Yard fence. A few cabinet locks in the kitchen, some silicone doohickies to protect his (extremely hard) head from the (pointy) coffee table corners, and make sure you don't leave any pennies on the floor.

When NJ became a mobile baby, this was pretty much what we had. Our floorplan was such that there were two doorways to the kitchen, which meant we could simply put a pressure gate on each side to keep him out and safe from hot splattering oil. We put a gate at the top and bottom of the stairs. We put a fence around the TV and the cat litter boxes. And we kept the bathroom doors closed until he figured out (and could reach) the doorknobs. Then we got covers for the doorknobs. Then he actually needed to be able to get into the bathrooms but was old enough to know not to play in the toilet or unroll the toilet paper, so we took the thingies off the doorknobs and opened the bathroom doors.

And then SB was born. Since NJ was only two when SB was born, a lot of the house was still baby-proofed - gates were still up, cupboards were still locked, and NJ didn't have any toys that weren't for the under-three crowd (like, say, Legos). And he wasn't interested in money, so there weren't random coins lying around.

We moved into a new house when SB was almost two, and by then we didn't need anything baby-proofed, because four-year-old NJ and two-year-old SB were smart enough not to kill themselves. We may have had a few outlet covers, but nothing else. Nothing. And then NJ and SB got things like Legos and money.

And then we had GI.

For six months, GI was a stationary, lump-like being who was easy to keep safe. And then one day he figured out how to crawl and get all up in his brothers' business.

And then he fell down the stairs. Well, four steps, and they're carpeted, but it still scared me. A lot.

So we put a gate at the top of the stairs. And we had been practicing with NJ and SB for months not to play with Legos in the living room. When we moved in, we made the garage into a playroom for them, not that they play in there very often, and I made a rule when GI was about four months old that they could only play with Legos in the garage. We would make the garage their place, and GI wouldn't be allowed to go in there, and thus he would be safe from their big boy toys.

Only, they don't play in the garage. And lots of interesting choking hazards make their way into the living room. Like, for example, when GI found a bit of a popped balloon. Sigh.

And they have to remember to close the gate at the top of the stairs, but only if GI is upstairs and free, because the cats can't jump the gate (well, one of them can't), and their food and water and litter boxes are in the spare bedroom. Oh yeah, and don't forget to close the spare bedroom door when GI is upstairs and free, because litter boxes ≠ sand boxes, and cat food should really stay in the bowls, not be scattered all over the floor. But don't forget to open it again when he's no longer free to get in there or the cats won't be able to eat or poo. And keep the bathroom doors closed! I hate finding half the toilet paper unrolled, or, worse, GI happily splashing in the toilet.

And the kitchen. He LOVES the kitchen. And if we gate the kitchen, we can't open one of the cupboards, and the older boys can't get to the garage (which is accessible only through the kitchen). I must have had a burst of inspiration when I put the kids' plastic bowls and plates and cups in a bottom drawer near the sink, because GI has a blast opening up that drawer and taking everything out. At least it's safe stuff! We did have to put a child lock on the pantry, because he kept finding glass bottles to bang against the tile floor. But then SB couldn't open the pantry to get to his snacks at snack time. This is the catch-22 of baby-proofing, when you want to keep the baby out but not the preschooler!

And don't forget to close the bathroom door!

And pick up that penny.

And throw away your string cheese wrapper.

Don't you want to play with your Legos? In the garage.

I do have an excellent piece of baby-proofing advice, though, so this post doesn't become a total waste. Follow the baby's lead. See what he finds interesting, decide if it can be made safe, must be made off limits, or is perfectly fine, and adjust accordingly. I personally don't mind if he pulls the DVDs off the shelf, but if you do, move them up to a shelf he can't reach, or put a fence or gate in front of them. We decided we really didn't want him banging on the TV screen (really? Why not?), so I put a Play Yard fence in front of the TV. I hate this fence with a passion, but it protects both GI and the TV. And it's definitely better for things to be out of sight than just out of reach, because a frustrated baby will (a) scream a lot because he wants it, and (b) will probably try to find a way to get to it.

And then, suddenly, they're not babies anymore, and you can take the gates down.

Deciding to Have Another Baby

When I was pregnant with my second, and then my third, I was often asked how I knew I wanted another. How did I know I wasn't done? Was I trying for "the girl?" How many kids did I want? How did I know? How did I know when I was ready for another?

The simple truth is, we didn't really know. When we were early in our marriage, we both knew we wanted kids, we both knew we wanted to wait a little while (I was only 20 when we got married, and we wanted to be more financially secure and have an idea where we were headed in life before having kids. It almost happened that way.), and we both knew we wanted two kids. After a while, "two" became "four." Then, when we finally did decide we were ready, and I was about seven months pregnant with NJ, we were visiting potential pediatricians, saw a mother with three young boys, and looked at each other and said, "Two. Far apart." Our original intention was to have two kids with about four years between them.

If you've been keeping up, you probably realized that changed. Dramatically. NJ and SB are only 26 months apart, and SB and GI are just shy of 32 months apart.

To be honest, for a while after NJ was born, I couldn't fathom ever having another child. While my pregnancy itself wasn't terribly difficult, the labor and delivery were traumatic for me. The newborn period was tough. Figuring out work and childcare was challenging. And, finally, PPD toward the end of his first year made the idea of more children almost unimaginable.

But things got easier, my depression eased, and traumatic memory faded, and by the time NJ was 18 months old, we had a delightful toddler who charmed everyone, and we decided that we made such awesome babies that we should go ahead and do it again. By then, I was excited to go for the birth and breastfeeding experience I hadn't gotten with NJ, and I was excited to have two babies close in age so that they could grow up as good buddies, and I really hoped to have a girl.

It had taken me a reasonably long time to become pregnant when we decided to try the first time, so we assumed it would take a while the second time as well. It didn't. It took two months. And, as loyal readers know, the labor, delivery, and breastfeeding experience the second time around created a much happier memory. Sure, the newborn period was still tough, but I had more friends, my mom moved to the same city and was able to help out, I was working from home, so childcare wasn't as big of a problem, and we were excited to have two.

I'm not so sure that we "knew" we were ready, or that we "knew" we wanted more. We kind of just went with the flow. We had decided years before that we'd have more than one, and neither of us really wanted our son to be an only child, and the only way to prevent that was to give him a sibling. Which we did. And they are practically inseparable.

I was so jazzed from how great my VBAC was that I was absolutely ready for a third. I hoped that we could finally produce a girl, for one, and for two, we'd long since become certain that we would have four kids. We knew enough families with four kids at that time to feel that four was an excellent number.

I remember discussing with a friend how in the world I would know I was ready for a third. She said not to think about it financially or about having space in the house or the car. (I famously spent a year worried about getting three car seats in my car!) After all, job situations and financial status can change. You can move. You can buy a new car. What you really need to consider is if you are emotionally capable of caring for a third child. How is it when both kids are at home? Can you handle the squabbles and the differing needs? Can you make time for each? Can you make time for both together? Do you enjoy the time? Can you see adding more time investment and energy to the mix?

I thought this was excellent advice, and, at the time of the discussion, I knew I wasn't ready. I found having both at home quite difficult. I didn't know how to program the day or handle their routines. I didn't have it "down." Indeed, I feel more comfortable now, with all three home, than I did at the time with only two. I learned.

It took us longer this time, both to become ready physically (I had a Mirena IUD and had to wait for an appointment to have it removed, first of all) and emotionally (then, we were in the midst of house-hunting and house-buying, and I think the stress made it more difficult to conceive). But after five months, in the month after finally being settled in our new house, I got the positive result on my home pregnancy test. That was GI, who is now nine months old.

GI's birth and so forth were pretty ideal, and it satiated the drive I had had looking for "the perfect birth." I knew that not everyone gets the birth experience she hopes for, but since I was having more kids anyway, I allowed myself to hope. Once GI's birth went off without a hitch, I felt like I'd finally filled that need. It's not that I had more kids just to fulfill a quest for an inspiring birth experience, but my eagerness to become pregnant again soon was partly because of this desire.

Now, with an elementary-schooler, a preschool-aged kid who's home all day, and a crawling, clever, curious nine-month-old, my eagerness to become pregnant and have another is kind of at a low point. It's hard. Part of what made deciding to have a third fairly easy was that we were at a very good stage in both NJ and SB's development. They were becoming more independent. They were mostly sleeping through the night. I was "getting" it, in terms of routine and balancing "me" time with "them" time and getting work done. Throwing a new baby into the harmony we'd developed has reminded me that having a baby is incredibly fun but also a great challenge, and I'm putting everything I have into trying to maintain that balance with all three, especially now that it's summer and NJ doesn't even have school. One thing that has helped is that very independence that NJ and SB have, though. I can be spending time with GI while his brothers get themselves ready for bed, I can nurse the baby while they find games to play, I can work while the baby sleeps because the older boys can entertain themselves, by and large. If not for that, I'd probably have lost my mind by now.

I know I will want another. Probably by the time GI is a toddler, I'll be pining for the cute baby stage again, especially since I have several friends who are pregnant now and are due right around when GI will be one year old. And since we've already made the decision to have four kids, I'm game to go for it one more time. But I can't see doing more than that. One friend of mine, upon her second son's birth, said she felt totally done. She had her two kids. She did not feel the need for more. She'd filled that need in her head for kids, and she did not want to go through pregnancy, labor, and delivery again. I'm not there yet. I feel like I've got one more good go in me. But I think I'll feel that way after that. We'll see.

In this day and age, where we can almost definitively choose when to have kids, how many to have, and how far apart to have them, we suddenly have many decisions to make. Those who do not use any form of birth control, who don't try to make that decision but rather leave it up to G-d, fate, or luck, don't go through these ruminations. They just go on in their marriage knowing that they will have kids as they come. I know several such families, and it works for them. If you know it's not up to you, then it's not up to you. It's simple.

But if that's not how your marriage operates, then how do you decide how many, when, and how far apart? Well, I don't have a lot of insight, but I can offer a few observations.

How many kids should we have? If you're used to a big family and love it, chances are you won't feel "done" after one or two. On the other hand, if you're overwhelmed by the idea of that many kids, having experienced it growing up, you'll probably be quite sated after one or two! On the other hand, if you are an only child or have only one sibling, you may feel that wasn't enough and that you'd like your children to have a "big family" childhood. Or, you may feel that was the perfect number and would simply like to replicate it. So much depends on your own experience in your own family.

How far apart should they be? So, NJ and SB are reasonably close in age. The advantages are as follows: They're growing up playing together and always having been in each other's lives (NJ didn't get to be the "only" for long enough to remember it); for us as parents, NJ still wasn't independent when SB was born, so we were still used to being needed all the time, so it wasn't a readjustment; having babies close together means that our kids will grow up while we're still young enough to enjoy them growing up, and they'll be grown while we're still young enough to enjoy the empty nest - I really think there's something to be said for that. The disadvantages run basically parallel: You don't get as much time with just the one kid; you don't get a "break" from being needed all the time before jumping back into it; it takes a lot of energy to care for a toddler and a newborn, two toddlers, or a preschooler and a toddler. I know families with kids as close as 13 or 14 months apart and as far as seven years apart. I don't know what's "better." But if I were to imagine five year between my kids, or from NJ to GI without SB in between, I think it would be much harder to have a baby again, knowing how independent NJ has become. On the other hand, NJ is independent enough that I get more time with the baby. But, I so love the closeness between NJ and SB, and what I hope will develop between SB and GI.

Of course, there's always the question of wanting "one of each." With three boys, now, I often get the question, "are you going to try for the girl?" As much control as I have over my own reproduction, that is one aspect I can't control, nor would I choose to. If I'm meant to be a mom of boys, so be it! On the other hand, if I'm meant to have a girl one day, that would be nice. However, I don't see myself continuing to have kids until that happens!

Sometimes I picture my house in 10 years or so, when NJ and SB are teenagers, and GI and a theoretical younger sibling are tweens, and I tremble with fear. But then I look farther forward, 20, 30 years down the line, to when all of our kids, G-d willing, are having kids of their own, and it will be amazing to see our family continue to grow. And I try very hard not to think about the in-between years, of potentially a decade or more of college tuition. And that's a consideration, too!

Ear Infections, Asthma, and More: Breastfeeding and Baby's Health

When NJ was a baby, he had quite a few ear infections - six, I believe, in the first 15 months of his life. It wasn't enough for the pediatrician to recommend ear tubes, but not far from it. At four months, he contracted RSV, which caused his airways to become inflamed, necessitating treatment with albuterol using a nebulizer. It also appears to have conditioned him to respond to future colds with what was called Reactive Airway Disease (RAD), basically asthma symptoms that are triggered by a cold. Almost every time he'd get a cold, he'd end up with a wheezy cough that lingered for a couple of weeks. Treatment with albuterol and sometimes oral prednisolone usually had him breathing easily again within a few days. Eventually, thankfully, he grew out of his RAD and he hasn't had a problem with it in several years now.

His ear infections and asthma were yet more fuel for my guilt over not having breastfed him. Maybe if he'd been breastfed, he wouldn't have had so many ear infections. Maybe if he'd been breastfed, he wouldn't have gotten RSV. Maybe if he'd been breastfed, he wouldn't have gotten so many colds. Maybe if he'd been breastfed, he wouldn't have had the RAD.

Indeed, SB's relative excellent health as an infant made me a believer. There's plenty of research out there to show that not breastfeeding increases a child's risk of ear infections, upper respiratory infections, asthma, diabetes, certain types of cancers, obesity, and so on, although the mechanism of protection is not always clear.

I remember reading, when NJ was a baby, that the average infant got 12 colds a year. That's one a month! NJ was certainly at the doctor almost once a month throughout his first year of life, not even counting his well baby checkups. He was rarely "well" even at those. That's not to say he was sickly, just that he often had a cold or drippy nose or cough or ear infection. It seemed like he was either just coming down with something or just getting over something or right in the middle of something, with the rare week of respite. Having a sick baby is frustrating and wearing, even if it's not a serious illness (thank G-d) or chronic condition. (I can't even imagine what it must be like if your child really is always sick. G-d bless all you parents dealing with that kind of stress.) What I began to wonder was, if formula feeding (or not breastfeeding) increases the risk of colds, ear infections, asthma, etc., then maybe it isn't "normal" for babies to be sick every month. Maybe breastfed babies aren't sick nearly so often, and that it's actually not normal (as in, natural) for infants to go around with drippy noses and achy ears almost constantly. Certainly, the fact that SB was rarely at the doctor except for well baby checkups throughout his first year bore out my expectation.

When GI was born, I placed a great deal of faith in the power of my breastmilk to protect him from his two older brothers' constant germy contact. NJ is kind enough to bring home and share every cold that comes his way at school. I will say that he appears to have quite the robust little immune system now, having been exposed to so many viruses when he was smaller. SB, however, being exposed only through NJ to all these viruses, still has not built up the wall of antibodies that appears to be working so well for NJ. At three, SB seems to come down with every cold he's exposed to, but he bears it well, mostly just getting snotty and sleepy for a few days. Both NJ and SB have the terrible habit of having fingers (and toys) in their mouths almost constantly. They like to amuse GI by blowing in his face, giving him raspberries (as in, spitting all over him), touching his hands, letting him put his hands in their mouths, touching his face, eyes, nose, and so on. Still, I had high hopes that breastfeeding would preserve him from the fate of constant colds.

Unfortunately, it seems like GI is sick more often than not, lately. After his bout of bronchiolitis not too long ago, he was healthy and happy for a few weeks. Then, suddenly, he was sick again, with the same cold both of his brothers had. NJ recovered quickly. SB is still a bit snotty but otherwise himself. But GI was up all night a couple nights back, coughing and wheezing. I took him to the doctor yesterday, where the wheeze was confirmed, and I was sent home with a nebulizer machine and a vial of albuterol, as well as oral prednisolone, and instructed to give him a nebulizer treatment up to four times a day and the prednisolone twice a day for five days to relieve the inflammation in his lungs. This was eerily familiar, as the nebulizer and the albuterol and the prednisolone were all standard features around our house when NJ was a baby, too. It's helping, though. He's breathing much more easily, coughing far less, and seems to be himself again. The only problem is that the steroids make it hard for him to sleep. But that will be over with soon enough, thank goodness.

What strikes me with all of this is that despite being 100% breastfed for the first six months and still mostly (like, 95%!) breastfed still at eight months, GI is sick almost as often as NJ was as a baby. The only difference is that GI's only had one ear infection. The doctor gave me the nebulizer machine because he sees this happening again, so we'll be prepared next time. It looks like GI is in the RAD camp alongside his big brother.

I still firmly believe that not breastfeeding increases the risk of a host of problems. I still agree that breastfeeding is normal and offers babies protection from all sorts of germs. I find myself saying, "But I did everything right! He's breastfed! We delayed cord cutting! I'm taking a Vitamin D supplement, and he gets sun almost every day. California sun!" And yet he comes down with so many colds, has this asthma problem now, and has had an ear infection. Let's face it, when the numbers aren't 100%, some people are on the "wrong" side.

So, you have your parents who say, "My kid was formula-fed, and he's healthy as a horse!" And you have your parents who say, "My kid was exclusively breastfed, and he had six ear infections and three asthma attacks by the time he was one." And both can be true, absolutely. But the issue isn't whether your kid fell into the expected category; it's whether most kids fall into the expected category.

I still remind myself that, if GI gets sick this often while breastfed, how much worse would it be if he weren't?  Perhaps the asthma symptoms would have manifested sooner. Perhaps he'd have had more ear infections. Perhaps, G-d forbid, he would have been hospitalized when he had bronchiolitis instead of recovering on his own. Who knows?

Anyway, the one benefit of breastfeeding that absolutely cannot be overlooked when your baby is sick is it's ability to comfort. Being close to Mommy, feeling her skin, hearing her heartbeat, suckling, the warmth of the milk on a raw, inflamed throat, and the calm of being where he feels safest is certainly the best medicine when your baby doesn't feel well. And lying down with him as your baby drifts off into a healing sleep makes it easier for you to handle the stress of his being sick.

GI is sleeping peacefully now, where I just returned to writing after nursing him back down. When all else seems to fail, at least I know I have that to offer.

On Having More Than One Child

I thought to myself this morning in the shower, "I wish I had been as confident a mother when my NJ was born as I am now." And then I realized that was an absolutely silly statement, because it's impossible to be "confident" as a first-time parent. Everything's new! I'm confident now with GI because I've done this twice before. And as far as the issues NJ brings up, well, I'm not so confident about those. He's my first five-year-old.

I think what I meant when I said that to myself was that I wish I had appreciated the time I had with NJ when I had it. When a friend of mine was about eight or nine months pregnant with her second, and I was the "experienced" parent, since I already had two and was pregnant with a third, she said to me that she was concerned about when the baby was born because she wouldn't be able to give the 100% attention to her older son that she was used to being able to give him. And she wouldn't be able to give the baby 100% attention, either.

I shrugged and said, "Of course not." Of course you can't. You give what you can to each kid, according to his needs. A newborn needs lots of attention, but many six-month-olds can be sat on the floor or in an Exersaucer for a good 30 minutes sometimes before needing you at all, and you can spend that time with your other child(ren). And when the baby is asleep, you spend time with your other child(ren). And if you have other children who nap, too, then you can use one's naptime to pay attention to the others. Obviously you can't give 100% to any of your children, once you have more than one, but a child benefits from even 10 or 20 minutes of one-on-one time with Mommy or Daddy. And in a two-parent household, Mommy can take one while Daddy takes the other(s). Or you can hopefully find help from a grandma or two, a nanny, a baby-sitter, or trade off childcare with other moms in similar boats.

One thing I've found with my two older boys, though, is that they crave each other as much as they crave their parents. This means that even though I can't give any of the three my undivided attention at all times, they don't need it. NJ and SB play together without needing me at all. They entertain each other. They don't want to be separated. When they fight, sometimes I threaten to make one of them play upstairs and the other one downstairs, and they scream, "No!!!!" This is a terrible punishment to them, to be separated, even though they're fighting!


When Cars 2 came out in June, we had planned for Daddy to take NJ by himself to see it - his first theater movie - as a special treat because he's older. When we told him about it, he insisted that SB come along. He didn't want SB to miss out on something so special. So, we all went as a family, and SB was as enthralled by the movie as NJ was, and my heart was warmed by the love of two brothers.


I believe that children are meant to have siblings. I know a few teenage girls who are only children, and they love playing with little kids. I don't know if they're a representative sample of only children, but I'm impressed by how much they enjoy the presence of other kids. I would think growing up without a sibling would be lonely. The way I see SB and NJ play, and how GI's eyes follow his brothers as much as they follow me, and how he smiles and giggles when he sees them just as much as he smiles and giggles when he sees me (sometimes more!), I know that humans are not meant to be raised alone. We are meant to have playmates, siblings, company.

I am so grateful that my two older boys are close enough in age to enjoy each other's company and play together. It was a rough road when they were younger, having two toddlers at once, and two in diapers at once, and two waking up at night. But it pays off. Because they play together. SB looks forward to when NJ comes home from school. NJ wakes up SB (gee, thanks) in the morning so they can go downstairs together to play or watch TV before my husband and I are up for the day. And wherever one of the boys is, the other must be, too. It's amazing.

I worried, before SB was born, how we would foster a bond between them, so that they would want to be together and play together and love each other and protect each other. I didn't know "how" to do that, as a parent. It turns out, we didn't have to do anything special. We included NJ in SB's care, and now we include both of them in GI's care. The younger sibling naturally worships the older. And when the younger one is old enough to play with the older one, each is happy to have a playmate. I hope this relationship continues throughout their lives.

I'm sure that having all of the kids home with me (when NJ's not in school) helps. They see each other every day, play together every day, and are forced to find a way to enjoy each other's company, or it would be a miserable house, indeed.

I do wonder how the dynamic might be different if one was a girl, but I somehow don't think it would change much. I know several families with boys and girls, and the boys and girls play together and enjoy each other's company just as much. I'm sure it changes when they're older, though.

I look forward to when GI is old enough to join his brothers' play. I hope that he is integrated and included. The almost five-year difference between him and NJ might make it difficult, but he'll always have SB just above him for company. If a fourth child should come into the picture (eventually? G-d willing?), then he'll also have a younger sibling to enjoy.

The best part is, I imagine NJ as the sort of big brother who will protect his little brothers. "That's my brother. I'm allowed to hit him, but nobody else is!" He already looks out for SB. He takes his big brother role very seriously.

Indeed, the only way I can get shopping done with all three of them right now is to put GI in a stroller, stick SB in the seat of the shopping cart, and have NJ push the stroller as we walk the Walmart aisles. We got many amazed looks this morning, people impressed that a five-year-old could handle the responsibility, but I don't worry. NJ is very concerned about his baby brother's well-being, and he likes be trusted to help me. I told him today that I don't think I could get the shopping done without him, and I could literally see him swell with pride. What a wonderful feeling for both of us.

I do sometimes miss having just one. When you have just one, you can nap when they do. You can hand him off to the other parent or some other caregiver and just relax (or get stuff done around the house). You can spend 100% of your "kid time" with him. And the amount of yelling and screaming and jealousy and "That's not fair!" and "He hit me!" and "No, I wanna do it!" and "How come he got one and I didn't?" and "I want to go first!" can be wearing once they're both old enough to be aware of such things. But it's so worth it. So worth it.