My second daughter turned two last month. She is our rainbow baby and our last kiddo (no, really, the last). Since she arrived two long/short years ago, our family, and really our whole world, have been turned upside down and I am so grateful for the joy of her in our lives.
I’m going to miss her baby-ness and the pure love that only a tiny one can radiate. I’ll miss the sweet scent of her newborn head, her little coos and funny noises, and witnessing all the firsts – first smile, laugh, step. Realizing, as I pack up and give away baby clothes, nursing pillows, and all the rest of the “gear,” that I’ll never have those experiences again makes me so, so very nostalgic and more than a little sad.
But this ain’t one of “those posts.”
Because guess what? There are a lot of things I won’t miss about the baby stage.
See ya, bottles. Breastfeeding wasn’t easy for me with either of my girls. We had latch issues, supply issues, demand issues, #alltheissues. We supplemented with formula pretty immediately and after just the first few weeks (with #1) and months (with #2), we switched entirely over to formula. Bottles are a pain, if I’m being honest. There’s at least four parts to each one – and those are the least complicated versions – and cleaning them a hundred times a day (clearly not an exaggeration) is the pits. Yup, I used my dishwasher on the bottles for my littlest one because #secondkid. She is, I’m happy to report, still alive and not maimed by my lack of commitment to handwashing nipples and valves and bottles and caps.
Bye, bye, formula. I am so grateful that we live in an age where moms have options on how to feed their babes. I’m a big fan of breastfeeding. I’m a big fan of formula feeding. I’m a big fan of fed babies, period. But let’s be real here: formula isn’t perfect. It’s expensive, it’s messy, and it smells (you haven’t lived until some has leaked out of a bottle and into your car mats during an Arizona summer). Any trip out of the house requires taking inventory of bottles, water, and scoops of formula perfectly planned for each 2-4 hour stretch of time you’ll be away. Fun fact: if you drop the three-compartmented formula cup full of powder onto the floor of a 5 Guys, you can’t scoop it back up and you will have to go home. When my littles started eating real food at restaurants or at friends’ houses (you know, when we went places), it was like the dawning of a new age of sweet freedom.
Peace out, diapers… well, soon anyway. I’m actually kind of torn about diapers. I appreciate the convenience of not having to stop, drop, and roll our way into a bathroom while out in public, praying we don’t miss the teeny-tiny window of time little kids’ walnut-sized bladders give you. I hate the literal money in the trash can with every changed diaper and the fact that disposable diapering is really not eco-friendly (but I personally find cloth diapering not sanity-friendly, so there you have it).
I also don’t love my own body smelling like my kids’ urine while they’re being potty trained and for a great long while thereafter so another point for diapers, I guess. My older daughter was potty trained in a matter of three days by her rockstar of a daycare teacher. I’m on my own for #2 ,so wish me luck (it has crossed my mind to call our old daycare and see if I can drop her off for a few days so Miss Terry can work her magic again, but I’m guessing that’s not really an option). So, on the one hand you have convenience and containment. On the other you have environmental responsibility and more money in your pocket. This one’s a toss-up.
Hello, sleep!! I have to be honest, we got lucky in the sleep department. Both girls, like their mama, are champion sleepers. But even the best little snoozers wake up a million times during babyhood in phases we over-explainers like to call “sleep regressions.” Teething? Hunger? Dirty? Lost paci? Contemplating nuclear physics and getting super jazzed about it? Who knows – some babies gonna sleep and some babies gonna party all night. At two and seven, I get to have full nights of uninterrupted sleep about 90% of the time. Not bragging, new mamas, your time will come; but while you get to soak up baby head smell, I get to gloat about sleeping.
So, babyhood, you magical rollercoaster ride, you’ll be missed. Mostly. Like, the good parts will be missed. The crappy parts won’t be.
And with that, I’m off and into the world of parenting two “big kids.”
