I blinked and somehow, we’re halfway through summer. The Fourth of July came and went, as did my 10-year high school reunion where I took advance of the open bar and requested Justin Beiber nonstop to the DJ. Big Bear has only two weeks left of camp and the countdown until fall begins. But not before my baby boy turns 2-years-old.
I remember the summer that Little Bear was born. Big Bear was just shy of two-and-a-half and we spent our summer counting the sailboats on the boardwalk of Peacock Park and sharing plain bagels with butter at Starbucks after soccer lessons. I spent Big Bear’s naptime sterilizing bottles, nipples, and pacifiers for an unborn Little Bear and washing newborn clothes, swaddle blankets and everything else under the sun with Dreft laundry detergent.
Little Bear hasn’t been a baby for what feels like such a long time. He talks nonstop, even though half of it is still undecipherable. He runs and dances. He can drink out of a cup, he can use a fork. He takes naps like a champ and will sit on his potty.
He’s almost as much of a boy as his older brother, and this creepy, crazy nanny is ready for another baby.
You hear these stories about women who after the kids are grown they miss having a baby and suddenly have another baby. I am turning into this lady. The only difference is they aren’t my kids and I don’t have my own family.
But to be honest, I see where this desire for another baby comes from. Baby’s aren’t independent. Although you are a slave to them, you can still manipulate them into doing what you want them to do. Toddlers and children aren’t the same.
Case in point. I really don’t care for the movie Moana. But BB loves it. Every time he wants to watch it, which for a while was daily, our conversations would go like this.
“Rach, let’s watch Moana.”
“How about Trolls?”
“Frozen, Peppa Pig, Mickey Mouse?!”
“Fine, Moana it is.”
When LB was younger, I was able to take him anywhere and he would sit quietly in the stroller and observe his surroundings. Now he either wants to be out of the stroller and pushing it or he wants to be carried the whole time.
But a teeny-tiny baby? They kind of just lay there like a blob and do nothing. Sure, I have PTSD from a sleepless Little Bear who kept me on my feet for all ten-hours of my work day. But he smelled so good! He was so cuddly!
I think I need some adult friends.
For Little Bear’s initiation into the Terrible Twos, his parents are throwing him a party at the new house. Which is perfect, because this house is laid out to host some parties. Large, outdoor patios with fans and TVs. A large BBQ area.
LB’s girlfriends from Gymboree and his one male friend from Silly Monkeys will be attending. I will be a guest and will try and not act like the hostess/mother.
Only two weeks left, and BB will be out of camp. Right after that, the school year starts. I’m hoping the month of August won’t be unbearably hot and that we can squeeze in a few zoo and seaquarium days.
And maybe during that time, I’ll be gifted with baby #3. The house is already a chaotic mess. How can a newborn possibly make this house any loonier?
A nanny can dream!