I feel the need to write. I feel the need to document and I haven't. I have five possible journals to document into(one for each child, one for myself, and a family one) and this blog, yet I haven't written in the last two months. But I need to. Despite my inability to organize my thoughts, I'm going to take the time to ramble here in order to help get some memories recorded.
We have an adorable two month old in the house. The smile of an innocent infant can light up the world like nothing else. I am so blessed. Often you hear the phrase: "I can't even remember what it was like without him!" While I don't like to use expressions that aren't entirely truthful, I can say that my life has been so wrapped up in this little boy for the past two months that its hard to remember anything at all. My memory isn't the greatest. I don't remember all the little amazing things from when Ryan and Evan were this small. I don't remember marveling at their tinyness, their strength. I know I must have, but I don't remember doing it. I don't remember being awed at the gift of creation, at the possibilities of who this little being will turn into, nor the overwhelming responsibility of raising him to be a kind, loving, and successful man. I don't remember these feelings, but I'm sure I experienced them.
Something else I don't remember, and am pretty sure I didn't experience, was a sense of fear and nervousness. Along with having this amazing new soul in our lives, I've been able to compare this little boy to his older brother. His older brother who has been aggressive for a while, but now that I have to protect a defenseless baby, it seems so much harder to deal with. Its hard to parent sometimes. Its easy to parent a baby. Yes, its tiring, but its easy to feed, to change, and to entertain a baby. I have been able to see Evan improve over these two months. He's still given Scott a few scratches, but he has also shown tenderness and gentleness. It shows to me that he loves Scott. He shows some concern when Scott cries. He looks for Scott if he's not where he expects him to be. I love Evan, and am sad to say I have shed tears in the last two months for and because of him. Despite that, he is still a great boy who cuddles his mother more often than hitting. I can't lose hope in finding the best ways to help him. He is so loving and if I can find a better way to teach him to show that love, he'll be able to share it so much better with all of us. As Scott gets bigger, I want him to love his brother too.
Ryan loves his little brother. He has already declared that "since I taught Evan to walk, I am going to teach Scott" and "I'm going to teach you French." He loves to sit with him (as long as he isn't crying) and has really enjoyed making him smile. I feel that because of the great boy Ryan has turned into, I was able to feel confident in having Scott. I am constantly grateful for Ryan at the end of the day. He often helps without complaining and while I know all the things I should be doing differently to be giving him a better life, he doesn't and is still loving and kind. I am a blessed woman.
So despite the usual messy state of our house, doing laundry at the last possible moment, doing dishes when the sink has been full for days, and watching more TV than is sensible, we have good moments too. Holding a sleeping baby is wonderful, as well as having his 8 year old brother fall asleep on your thigh. Holding a smiling baby is joyful, as well as seeing your 6 year old smile when he successfully made "his" baby smile. Holding a squirming baby is tiring as you try to figure out what he wants, but seeing all those limbs working and then seeing his daddy "exercise" with him to the tune of the shark song is entertaining.
After Evan stopped gaining weight during his first year of life, I vowed to never again utter "I wish you'd stop growing so fast" or "I want you to be little forever." I often feel that Scott is already growing fast and while these days of snuggling and staring and kissing are wonderful, they won't last long. I decided that there are only a couple times when you can stare at a person without it being awkward: when you are in love with them or when you have given birth to them. So the three boys in my home may often get stared at as I try to imprint their beings into my memory. I don't want to forget these moments. I don't want them to be lost. Who knows if I will ever again have the privilege of holding a baby for hours and being everything to them. I need to remember these moments.
Hows that for the rambling thoughts of the mother of a two month old? Perhaps in my next set of ramblings, I'll actually record a few specific moments to retain them for my memory.
