“How are you doing?” In the wake of our second baby, everyone wants to know. That, and “are you ever going to blog again?” Well, this is how it’s going, and this is why I haven’t posted since the baby was born two months ago.
This morning, we were preparing to leave playgroup at our friend’s house. As I gathered the detritus of my life (sippy cups, receiving blankets, diaper bags, snack traps full of Goldfish), Buzzy spotted the front door open and darted through it. I grabbed the diaper bag, sprinted after her, and caught her by the hood of her coat on the front porch. As she strained against my grip, I turned to my friends in the doorway. “Bye, Deby! Bye-bye, Jack! Thanks for having us over!” Jack looked like he was trying to tell me something, but I didn’t pause to decipher his two-year-old chatter. We proceeded down the front walk, me grimly explaining to Buzzy just how naughty she’d been to run away. We hit the sidewalk before it dawned on me.
I forgot the baby.
“I forgot the baby!” I exclaimed. Another friend had walked out ahead of me with her son and offered me an out: “I thought you were just going to get Buzzy in the car, then go back.”
Nope. “I forgot the baby!” I gasped again. I turned to Deby, still standing in the doorway, now doubled over with laughter. “Oh, my God! I forgot her! I’ll be right back!”
I buckled the naughty big sister into her car seat, then returned to the house. “Um, does it count that I remembered before I crossed the street?” She was sympathetic, having a two year old and a new baby of her own. I picked up the car seat, where the baby seemed unaware she’d been abandoned.
So, that’s how it’s going. The baby’s been, relatively speaking, the easy part. The two year old is testing limits, pressing buttons and, even when she’s trying to be good, is so curious and fearless that I fear for her safety.
I protest to the Mothering Court of Guilt in my head that, technically, I hadn’t really left without the baby, as we were still on Deby’s property when I remembered her. But it’s a losing argument. This sweet little girl child, this rosy-posy baby who came out so pink and who smiles easily and often, will never get the attention we lavished on Buzzy. She’s the second kid. While I am savoring her babyhood so much more, I take fewer pictures and I document fewer milestones. (Even her first blog post features her older sister.)
So, how am I? Trying to balance a precocious two year old with a precious little baby doesn’t leave a lot of time for analysis, but I foresee a backlog of cases in the Mothering Court of Guilt in the years ahead.