The six month pie chart
Bunlet is now six months old. WHAT THE FUCK. Here he is, trying to find just the right words to welcome Augusta‘s Gummy.
When I try to describe the experience of being a mother to this fat little baby, I am almost at a loss for words. He is extraordinary–so full of joy that he radiates pure sunlight. I think he has been better than one of those SAD lamps this winter… I have an audio file of him laughing (while being wild dogsed, as it happens) that I play over and over. He is very good at rolling across whole rooms, and wants so much to crawl. I have trained Bun Bun to place an array of toys in front of him and to sit next to him and read (“read”) books, and that keeps him wonderfully entertained, as he is usually happy as long as he can see her. I often find myself thinking, How did I live without you? How, indeed.
Anyway. Before Bunlet was born, we predicted what would be hard about the next six months. We decided to start with the assumption that Bunlet would not be a radically harder baby, which was tempting fate, but fate was kind. Our predictions:
In short, this time I expected that FD would play a real role, that I would actually long for company, that sleep deprivation wouldn’t be such a soul destroying nightmare, etc. Our main concern was adjusting to the fact that previously we’d outnumbered the babies, and now it would be an even distribution. Which is certainly related to “no time to self”… We also predicted there would be bumps as Bun Bun’s schedule got disrupted. And we didn’t know how she’d react to having a baby around. Or how that would interact with her becoming a toddler-person, with a whole new set of needs and reactions. Now for the actual results.
I was certainly right about the FUCKING DEPRESSED. Sigh. Otherwise…well, there are a lot of tears contained in those slices of pie, but not too many surprises.
However, I reckon it’s about to get a lot harder. As Ana recently pointed out, a toddler an an inert lump of newborn ain’t no thing. But Bunlet is less inert every day. Like, I wish he’d stop rolling under the sofa when I leave the room for a nanosecond.
On the other hand, the whole experience of parenthood has been one of constant adaptation. The stage ahead always seemed intimidating. And so far we have survived. Perhaps there’s hope.