It's different with this baby. I give her what she needs, but I'm racing between the two of them, and if he's awake all day he seems to need me all day. Part of that is change, the arrival of his sister and departure of his daily routine, part of it is being stuck indoors so much, and part if it is that since he's not napping, he's getting overtired in the evenings, and therefore more demanding.
I feel as if I get so little of the time I got with my firstborn with this baby: sitting, rocking, nursing, in no hurry at all. He napped for hours yesterday and I just held her while she ate and slept her day away, and even though my arms and shoulders were all cramped up by the end of the evening, it was nice. Breathing in the scent of a baby's head is calming, meditative.
And my son was so easygoing after his nap, a pleasant reminder of how he used to act every night when he napped religiously! I'm going to try and return naptime to the schedule, but I think I have to think of it as quiet time and be willing to end it after an hour if he doesn't fall asleep. He seems somewhere in the middle of needing and outgrowing it, and I think I'll need to be flexible.
Tomorrow my husband goes back to work; paternity leave is over. One of my sisters is coming for a few days, so I will still have some help for a few days, and then I'll be on my own. I'll be honest: I'm a little terrified. When I only had one and I heard things like: Motherhood is the hardest job in the world, I always thought: Really? It doesn't seem that bad!
I felt easy, breezy, confident, at least, much of the time. With two to manage, I get glimpses of how this job might knock you to your knees, or break your heart in half. But I've been practicing my breathing, doing a little bit of yoga with my boy, having an afternoon cup of tea, breathing in the scent of my girl's scalp, and keeping the clutter up off of the floor. Amidst these little things, I attempt to find my footing.