Four Months!

Alex is four months old.  Four months is not that long.  It's shorter than a single basketball season, which I specifically looked up because I am the mother of sons, with penises, who will likely, unfortunately, be interested in sports one day.  So now I can act like I know what I'm talking about should one of them bring up basketball at the dinner table in ten years.  I can say, "Oh, hey, did you know the season runs from early November through... Smarch?"  And they can say, "Mom, you are so lame, but I like the fact that you doubled the cheese in this recipe.  Love ya!"

So, Alex has been here four months, not even half a year, and yet it's hard to remember life before him.  Hasn't Andy always been a big brother?  Haven't I always had two kids?  And was there EVER a time all those size one jeans in my dresser fit just right?  Doubtful.  It's amazing how quickly the new has become the new normal.  I am a stay at home mom with two boys.  My eldest son Andrew is a bossy young chap who retorts, "No, Mommy do!" when I tell him to pick up his toys and often demands cake for no reason.  He shares a room with his little brother Alex, who is quickly becoming the target of his well-meaning jerkiness.  Just this morning, I caught Andy using the toilet plunger on Alex's belly.  A week ago, it was ice cubes on the face, and this evening, Andy somehow mistook Alex's face for his blanket and tried to grab his little brother's head while declaring, "Blankey!"  That was a very confusing two seconds for all of us.

Alex, since he can't talk, walk, or otherwise sass or annoy me, is who I mentally refer to as "the sweet one."  This kid really loves me and clearly prefers me above all others.  He gives me amazing smiles and squeals of joy for no other reason than just because he sees me, and he cuddles against me in a way that says, "I'm yours!" When he's crabby and crying, he wants me as opposed to Chris, whom I can only assume he mentally refers to as "oh...the other one."   When I bathe him, he stares at my reflection in the mirror instead of his own.  He might be borderline obsessed with me, but as someone who's never been terribly popular, it's nice to have a fan club.  Sure, Andy's the president, but that's only because he can sit upright and hold a mallet (for adjourning meetings).  To Alex, I'm a goddess.  Andy, of course he loves and adores me because I'm his mommy- but he understands that the world is big and wide and while Mommy's great- she's no Daddy.  Or Papa.  Or random guy at the library that was deemed worthy of Andy grabbing his hand and saying, "Come on!" while he tried to pull him in the direction of the puzzles.  Oh, no, Mommy's okay, but that random guy- now that was a guy that could REALLY put together a puzzle.

Having both Andy and Alex, after four months, is something that imperceptibly went from weird and exhausting and a little scary to just the good and regular day-to-day.  Not going to work has also become less of a novelty and is now just something that I do (or don't do, I suppose).  And I'm at a point where I've stopped looking at the clock and thinking, "Oh, this is about the time I'd be working on loan renewals... or going out for lunch and getting Smashburger... or putting on my coat and logging off my computer and pretending I didn't just hear my phone ring."  Sure, I still think about Smashburger an awful lot, but I am only human.  Now I have a different schedule that doesn't revolve around high (okay, high-low to medium) finance, and somewhere along the line I've stopped comparing the two.  Instead of saying aloud, "Wow, it's eight in the morning and I'm still in a robe when I should be pulling my insurance report!" I say instead, "Wow, it's eight in the morning and I'm pretty sure Andy just ate a nickel!  Also, I'm in a robe!"

Of course, there's more to my day than just wearing a robe.  Actually, I wear my robe surprisingly little since we're so- wait for it- busy.  Between all of our activities, our daily outings, and then grocery shopping, chores, and the like, our days are pretty full.  Now, is staying at home with two kids harder than working full time and having one kid?  The answer is no.  Working and having a baby is very hard.  And I had it tougher before than I do now, for sure.  I am happy to admit that.

Happy four months to my little Alex- and to our lives together here as a family of four.  It hasn't been that long- but it feels like it's the way it was always supposed to be.