I’ve been rather I’m-not-sure-somewhere-between-crabby-and-upset the last few days. I think it may be the loss of fertility in all honesty. I’m sure that sounds weird coming from a young person such as myself, but we’ve formally agreed that 2 is enough, and now I’m dealing with my choice. I’ve always been happy with the idea of 2 children, I’ve never wanted to try to have more than 2 children, but having devoted the last 4 years of my life to trying to have and consequently growing those 2 children, it’s a bit of a vacuum to no longer have that goal. If any of you ladies have ever tried to have children, I’m sure you’ll understand how incessant that goal can be. It’s been the focus and constant thought pattern and now it’s simply… gone. I almost feel bad just for saying it, because I don’t want to give the impression that my children aren’t enough. That’s not it at all; I dearly love both of them, and am extremely thankful for each, especially since it took more than a bit of doing to have them. However, be it reproductive organs or hormones, there is still a bit of sad to be had.
Speaking of children, biggest took himself to the bathroom. All by himself. Without me asking. Talk about the light at the end of the tunnel. Not only was I proud, but I felt like dancing around the house yelling he did it. Annnnd…. then he tried to take his pot to the toilet to dump, and dropped it on the floor… it went alllll over the hallway, up the doors, and halfway into my bedroom. Good feeling gone. (Well sort of, I was still ridiculously proud, and that was what lysol wipes were really invented for, however, it was gross, and yucky, and any other not-nice words you can think of). But he did it without me asking, and that was the important part. Littlest has started enjoying rice cereal (he’s that old already, I can’t even believe it.). I’ve had to hold off for another couple weeks until child funds come in though, because as much as he’s excited about it, I can’t really feed him in his bumbo, and I can’t really hold him properly to feed him on my lap, as he’s very long. So I must wait until I can purchase a reclining feeding seat. You see, he gets so excited, he tries to eat his hands while he’s waiting (it’s actually more he tries to shove the spoon in his mouth, misses, and figures his hands will do), and of course, hands in his mouth make him drool. It’s very difficult to properly swallow (as much as you try to) when you have drool.
And that about sums it up. Off to bottles and bed and book. Not in that order.