Things are getting better now, but we have been struggling. Not with the sleep deprivation that comes with a newborn, not with the growth spurts and 'round the clock feedings, the raw diaper rash, nor the gassiness of the tiny one, though I'm sure those exacerbate the situation somewhat.
No, we are dealing with the aftermath of having turned Lilah's little world upside down. First, we got pregnant and Mommy's energy levels and ability to be physical with her changed. Then we moved and sold and renovated. That was stressful on all of us. And then, just when things were getting back to some semblance of normalcy, we brought home a new baby and Lilah switched daycares. Cue dramatic disaster music. The perfect storm.
Behaviours surfaced that we have never seen from our sweet girl before. Hitting, kicking, biting, you name it, we've had it. The one saving grace is that she is taking it out on her parents, the ones who created all this change, and not on her baby brother. Fair enough.
And on top of it all, she's so very, very three.
All of this makes for a unique combination of frustration and guilt. It's been tough. But all we can do is weather the storm, try not to lose it too often, and know that it gets easier. It has to.
Admist all of this, though, there have been moments.
|Celebrating my 33rd birthday at the end of August.|
These are the moments I hope will stick; the moments I want to bind to our history as a family and become part of our collective memory. To paraphrase my friend Jen: String together enough happy moments, and you end up with a happy life.