Wednesday, June 11, 2014
I didn't take the job. I really wanted to, thinking that it would be best for my kids. But then I realized that it wouldn't be best for me. I imagined myself six months down the road, deep into my daily grind. I imagined my house a mess, my struggle to keep it clean at the expense of giving attention to my babies. I imagined my rush to get dinner on the table each night. I imagined myself stressed to get it all done. In that imagination, I don't think that my kids would be getting my best version of me. I also imagined myself six years down the road with regrets that my babies were grown and I didn't get to see it -- too busy rushing through days to realize that they weren't babies anymore. I'm very fortunate to have the opportunity to be with them. So, I luckily got to choose them instead of an extra paycheck. I'll return to work in due time. But it'll be after their baby years are behind us.
Poor Munk. E called him "Franken-Munkey" and rightfully so. We had him taken in on Monday to have his teeth cleaned and we also had them remove two benign lumps. One was a golf ball sitting on his back knee and the other was up under his front armpit. We had them removed before they got too big and began to effect his gait (which due to the location there was no doubt that they would have). He was really out of it on Monday evening after we picked him up and he whined a lot upon arriving at home. But yesterday, he was back to a slower-version of his old self. Now we just have to wait for him to heal.
Brother is in love with his sister. Every single time that he sees her, he lights up like Christmas tree. The smile in that first photo of the post is the smile. Every. Single. Time. It is so completely awesome to see. And Finn has begun to baby-talk with Fish. She'll say in a very, very high pitch voice while bending her knees ever so slightly to get down to his exact level -- "Hi, Brother! You are such a cute baby! You are such a big boy!" My heart melts.
We are still struggling through our two year old being a two year old. I think the reason they wait until the second year to turn into monsters is because then you can't give them back. It's also probably because you love them so much that you willingly put up with their bullshit -- all the while "trying to make them better human beings". And then when they turn into A-holes at three, it's only because you realize that you've got 2+ years into them and can't give up on them now. But being two years old is also starting to be pretty darn funny. The way that she begins to mimic you (and doesn't quite get the wording right) while sharing her baby with Fish is sickly sweet -- until she screams "MY BABY!!!!! MY BABY!!!!" when Brother decides to turn her baby into his own personal spit-catcher.
We hit up library time on Monday morning and I got my first ever "She is a spitting image of you -- right down to her smile." I can't say that I wasn't overjoyed with that. I know that Fish is going to be a smaller version of E, so I at least want one of my kids to sort of resemble me. Both kids get that they look like E 90% of the time. But the grandpa bringing in his granddaughter for story-time was adamant that she was my twin. I'm going to ignore the fact that he probably just needed his eye prescription checked.
E told me this morning that I needed to start taking more photos of Fish. It's true. Looking back through the photos that I took of Finn and the photos that I haven't taken of Fish. He is a true second child. I would diligently take photos of her every single week -- to make sure that I didn't miss a second of her growth. He gets a photo when he does something cute or new. But it is more difficult now that I have to also deal with another kid in the process. And I also don't want to just repeat all the old photo shoots that I did with her at that age. I realize that I like to compare too much and while it totally entertains me, I'm sure that it doesn't entertain you.
She is starting (well has been for a couple of weeks) to do this really forced smile whenever the camera comes out. The word "cheese" when paired with a camera is equivocal to asking to see every single one of her teeth with her jaw clenched shut. Her smile is truly gorgeous, but it's like the elusive bird that spooks the minute that you put the camera up to your eye. You truly have to be super stealthy to get a genuine smile.
A closing photo of the second child... Someone that I am now making more of a point to aim the camera at.