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I am a very old-fashioned blogger. I know very little about feeds or stats or… anything. Really. I just click around when I am in the mood to read blogs.
I used to check my stats every long once in a while, not really understanding much of what the data meant. But today when I looked at the stats for the first time in almost a year, I noticed something shocking: people continue to read, like every day. Most of the people coming here seem to be sent here from a pPROM site where my info is posted. I hope my story has helped some of those people.
Because of the nature of the visits I get to this blog, I thought that I should write a little about how meanbabyboy is doing, since he’s been the star of this blog for the most part. In short, he is fine. I wish I could post a picture, but we just moved, and I don’t have my gear to make that possible. But I will soon- promise.
It’s been a funny year. In many ways, MBB has been a much easier, simpler baby than either of my twins, who were less premature. There have been a couple of hospital visits. One was just a couple of months ago for croup and the worst breathing I’ve ever heard from any of the boys- sounded like Darth Vader on a bad day. But he got past that and was okay.
He currently has a cold, and it’s putting me on pins and needles. That’s the ongoing stress of having had a lot of not-so-great experiences with your children’s health. At the same time, though, it’s mostly bearable and kind of just a fact of life. Something that you get used to, even though one can never become comfortable with worrying about one’s children.
MBB is a joyous baby, cute as a button with a winning personality. He has a quick temper, which I must admit is also kind of charming in its way. Like the typical “second child,” he has pushed his way into this family, no matter how many chaotic moments fill our days (there are a lot). His brothers think he’s generally a pain in the bee-hind, but that doesn’t stop him. In fact, at the ripe old age of 15 months, he just chucked a toy train across the room the other day because he was mad that he could not have the one that his brother was playing with. He is moving from the sibling-worship stage into the sibling rivalry stage. -A stage that never quite ends, even if some well-meaning woman did write a book called Siblings Without Rivalry.
Probably the biggest head-scratcher of the past year has had more to do with my feelings about being a mother to him than with him personally. Processing my identidy as a working mother has been weird. With the twins, I was home until they turned 21 months. With this baby, I was home until he was 6 months. What a difference. I just don’t have the same “I know what you’re doing at ALL TIMES!!!!!” bond with MBB as I did with the boys. That “I am you and you are me via the osmosis of always being together” kinda vibe. Thank God for being a teacher and having summers off, because I have experienced that bond with him over the past couple months, and it is familiar and fulfilling. I must admit, I find myself kind of down, with storm clouds of fear rolling in about going back in September. I keep telling myself just to enjoy and appreciate the present and not worry about September.
Honestly, I guess I always have to come back to the question of whether I can deal with my identidy being mostly about motherhood or not. I think the answer is probably not. I think the answer is that the bonding that takes place in the time before and after work and on the weekends can be wonderful, too, because it is filled with energy and enthusiasm that I didn’t have when I was home with the boys 24/7. It is also filled with the stress of trying do 1,000 things at once in order to keep things rolling while working full time. But I would be delusional if I said there was no stress when I was home. I was far from Pollyanna, y’all.
So that’s where we’re at more or less. It’s not very exciting, and that’s one of the reasons that I haven’t written about the general state of things. Okay, I just reread that. Didn’t I want life to be not-too-exciting for a while? The quiet is easy to take for granted sometimes.
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