My aunt asked how it was going, having this new baby and all. I told her that the incessant fighting over who gets to hold Baby Mason was endearing, yet on my last nerve. I think I forgot to tell her how the manhandling was annoying too. And Dad's brilliant idea to stave off tears by sticking a finger in the baby's mouth? Great because we know Dad's hands are clean, but Nathan's? Not so much. And speaking of Nathan....
It's funny as mothers how we just know things about our children. People look at us like we are crazy, but we just know. Like how I knew that Nathan's manic behavior was probably due to the fact that he wasn't on his schedule. Oh, if you knew how it pained me to say those words. "His Schedule." I mock the schedule mothers. I do. It's not nice, but I do. Those women who have never had lunch out because that is right in the middle of nap time? "Come on" I say.
Then I got my own scheduled child. One that has scheduled himself. He's fine, as long as he sleeps in his own bed and he makes his nap time every day at roughly the same time. This he did for himself, which I am sure makes it even worse. He, as a tender little two-year-old, had to make his own schedule. People looked at me like I was crazy as I attempted to explain away his behavior as needing sleep. I think everyone wanted to blame his craziness on getting pushed out of the loop by another baby. Someone suggested that maybe napping was a thing of the past for this child. I knew better. He knew better.
So in the midst of welcoming Baby #3 to our family, I realized that what my Baby #2 needed from me what right in front of me: the opportunity for a good night's rest. This will apparently allude the rest of us now that we have a hungry and crying baby to love in the middle of the night, but Nate's a whole new boy. Thank heavens for that.