3 Months Sweet

Hi.

This is me.

Throwing in the towel.

In the Battle of the Bink. 


My darling daughter is not foul.  She's not mean.  She's just deliberate.  If there's a bink and we help her out, she takes it.  She doesn't fling it.  But nor does she cry for one.  She's found a solution she prefers.

She's three months old.  The boy is realizing that she's not going anywhere.  He's not actively mean to her, but it's becoming more obvious that he's missing his role at center stage.  I keep quietly reminding him of all the cool things he can do because he's Bigger, I've preserved and protected our bedtime cuddles and read-aloud, and I feel a tremendous amount of sympathy for him, but I try to remind him that having a family is totally worth the inconvenience of it.

Have you heard of the Wishing of Biddy Malone?  In the course of the story the thrushes sing "Biddy Malone all alone!  Biddy Malone all alone!"  And when my poor, mellow girl gets left all alone in the bouncy seat while I'm making dinner or cleaning up with the Boy, she starts to fuss.  She hates being left all alone...she doesn't need to be held all the time, but she wants to be able to see us.  And when she starts to fuss the Boy sings, "BIDDY MALONE  ALL ALONE!"

I still have days when I can't get my balance between the babies, the house, and all the things I need to do and the other things I want to do.  But my blessing is the night.  I lay down my un-coordination, my off balance day, and I get up in the morning and try again.

And thankfully, my babies let me.