I’ve probably picked the worst time ever to start a blog.
I can hear the sound of white noise playing in my toddler Jacob’s room, while I am rocking my almost-4 week old Jared to the tunes of Ludovico Einaudi’s amazing piano and string arrangements, which always seems to send him into peaceful slumber.
I can still taste the chocolate in my mouth that I convinced myself that I needed in order to stay awake, and I can smell the yoghurty hint of milk stains on my top. Hubby and I wanted to watch TV tonight, but the baby was fussing and frankly we’re too tired to start up a new series. In fact, tired has become part of my personality.
But amidst the daze of sleep deprivation, I feel a burning sense of inspiration. I’m embarking on a new journey going from one kid to two, and like it or not, I have to keep on paddling to keep this ship afloat.
I always knew I wanted to have at least two children. I’m an only child and while I did grow up with plenty to keep me occupied, there was always this longing for a sibling – in particular, a big brother. Someone who would rough up this self-proclaimed tomboy and to have someone to fight with for all the right reasons, but ultimately one who watched out for me in a love-hate fashion.
The day before Jared was born, I had the ultimate blues with regards to Jacob. He was my baby – my one and only, my pride and joy. He was the one who built me up but also broke me down. And he knew he held first place in my eyes, but now he was about to be dethroned.
We had tried our best to prepare Jacob for D-day – we read some amazing books about babies, talked about baby names and picked baby clothes together. He would talk to my tummy and tell the baby “I love you” in the sweetest way he could.
My waters broke the night before I had Jared, hence Jacob was whisked away in the morning to spend the day with his cousins. My last kiss I gave him tasted bittersweet – the next time I would see him, I would be introducing him to his new brother.
I spent a bit of that day cooking and cleaning, and the rest of it crying my eyes out. What if I hadn’t prepared him enough and it left him feeling sad and lonely? What if I couldn’t cope with the demands of both kids and I wasn’t able to give Jacob the love he deserved? Was my heart big enough for two?
And then, they met.
My little boy was overjoyed to meet the “baby in mummy’s tummy” – the expression on his fact just says it all, doesn’t it?
So far, it’s obviously not been all fun and games, but every day has a hint of joy in it. I look forward to many new adventures as a family of four (or five, if you want to count our dastardly dog), and look forward to sharing them here as well.