Maybe there is something magical about a third baby -- the lack of tension, stress, or new clothing purchases. But we're over the moon in love with Baby C -- no holds barred, every last one of us.Gigi just dug up an old Cabbage Patch Kid pacifier, which had wintered somewhere in our shrubs. She brought it in to Baby C with all due haste, and tried to shove it in her baby sister's mouth. Luckily, we were able to substitute the dirty old plastic "pacifier" with a real one at the last second, avoiding a sure case of post-gestational toxoplasmosis.
But this scene is repeated a dozen times a day in this house -- we present Baby C with offerings of so many varieties -- boobmilk, blankets, snuzzles, and any old toy we think she might get a kick out of.
Chebbles just brought home a pinwheel from the gardening store, and shoved it one millimeter from Baby C's face. "See this, C? See the pinwheel? It needs WIND to make it GO!" Then she gave Baby C a speech about what life will be like when she is a big sister: "You can teach your little sister about things. And you can go to The Jungle."
I have to say that the idea of having a fourth child is burning brightly in our home, perked by the billows of our massive love for Baby C.
She is so welcome, so beautiful, and her hair looks just like Ethan Hawke's. But don't count on #4 by any stretch. We have a deadline looming, as I turn 40 in a little over two years (and I don't want to have a baby after 39), and I plan on nursing Baby C as long as I humanly can. For me, nursing has been effective in terms of limiting my fertility. Plus, we need to do serious MATH if we want to have a fourth baby -- in terms of a bigger car, bigger house, and much larger education expenses. So anyway, no one get their panties in a bunch about our overpopulating the world yet.
This is all to say that we're just NUTS about Baby C. She is everyone's darling, a bright ray of sunshine that radiates throughout our household. (And I'm not even taking Vicodin right now.)
Today I was driving down the road and I caught a whiff of her poop -- somewhere on my arms, I'd missed it when I washed my hands. And one word came to mind, "Intoxicating!"
4 comments:
GOD! Do you make cute kids or what?
Okay that has to be the sweetest picture ever..they are keepers! I HAVE to ask you something unrelated...does your extra firm mattress still feel good on your back now that you delivered--we purchased a pillowtop a year and half ago--I made a "rump divot" when I was prego and now all is fine and dandy for me--only slight backaches now and then..but my hubby is complaining of his back constantly and has made our toddler scooch over on her little full size bed so he can sleep in it since his back feels better--the warranty is null sooooo do we go with your extra firm bed or does hubby continue to share with our toddler and I move into the baby's crib?
thanks,
AP
I was speaking to a friend of mine about my son's poop!! I love the smell!! It's hard to describe, but it has a sweet aroma, that I s'pose only a mother would love!
"You'll" be 39 plus 14 months when this guy is scheduled to get here sooooooooo.... "you" will have already done it, no sweat. I say go #4!
Ps: Chay's poo...not intoxicating.
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