two.

Settling into life with two kids. It is no joke.

About 80% of the time, things go as planned and everyone is happy. We were in such a good routine with Larkyn before Rhys that I like to think that that has made things a little easier. But that other 20% of the time?  This is when people refer to parenting as "in the trenches", I guess.

The novelty of having a little sibling has worn off with Larkyn. It is clear to her that mommy cannot serve all her needs as immediately as I used to, and so she has to find other ways to get my attention. Which sometimes means a shrill scream at the top of her throat, or maybe a hard yank on her brother's little arm to get herself into time out. Because, hey, at least mommy had to get up and walk her to her room for time out.

My heart breaks for our sweet girl who is trying to comprehend all of this. We hate to see her get in trouble. And I'm having a hard time letting go of the things I used to be able to do with her. Yesterday, I took them both to our favorite playground. I couldn't leave the baby to go play with her or really supervise her the way I'd like, and that bugged me.  She actually asked another mom to put her in the swing (because I can't lift her yet). She has to go do things on her own now. Ugh.

Please note the inside out shirt layered over another shirt, the shoes that are ON, and the sticker decor on the right bed rail. All "nap time" accomplishments.

Another thing she is doing on her own, which is definitely that hardest transition we have made in parenting? The toddler bed. Holy hell do I hate that thing. My 3 hour napper went to a "play for 2 hours and maybe fall asleep at 3:30 napper". I struggled with that over the weekend, trying to gain some control so that she doesn't think nap time is going out the window. I worked myself up so much that I actually felt sick. I woke up the next day with so much stress from the non-nap/Witching hour (see below) that I was in a terrible mood. And it was my birthday. Matt noticed right away and pointed it out. Making me feel even worse.

Two weeks old:)

And our little man. Until about 6:30 at night, he is a peaceful sleeping angel who requires nothing but 2 bottles and a place to lay and doze all day. But at 6:30?  Totally different ballgame. I was sure it was gas or SOMETHING I could fix, ya know?  At our doctor's appointment yesterday, I was all over it. I said I'd switch formulas, use any kind of drops she prescribed, I'd do ANYTHING to have our evenings back.  She probably had to stop herself from laughing. She said it's "The Witching Hour" in which almost all babies get fussy. And there's not really a damn thing we can do about it.

Of course, I asked my Instagram followers to please outwit the doctor and tell me what to do. They were all very familiar with The Witching Hour (did we miss this with Larkyn?  Or did I black out for the first month?)  And I will be trying all of their ideas that don't exactly "fix" the problem, but make it more bearable. Some of the survival techniques...

• swaddling
• swinging
• white noise
• baby-wearing

 What do you think?  Did you experience this lovely time of night with your baby?

I know that my baby isn't supposed to work around our schedule. And we are very lucky that for the rest of the day and through the night, he is pretty great. BUT, those sacred hours between dinner and bed?  That is when a mom has to be 100% present. I have dinner to fix, somehow eat, I have conversation time with Matt, hopefully a little playtime and bathtime with Larkyn, her bedtime routine, and then my favorite time of night, TV time with Matt. By missing all of that, I have really felt "off". Or more accurately, like I suck as a mom and wife. Which I know you will say is not true, but that is how I feel.

I have been letting it get to me. The fact that I can't be present for all 3 of them. That I am losing some control of things with Larkyn, that the baby is crying and that causes everyone else to be stressed. But when you wake up on your birthday in a terrible mood when everyone else wants to have a fun day, you have to have some sort of revelation. Or smack to the head...something. If I am going to make it in this parenting of two, I have to start accepting things instead of fighting them. I'm sure I'm not alone in this feeling of trying to please everyone. I know it will get better and that this is an adjustment for all of us. I'm not even sure why I wrote this. Perhaps I don't write enough honest posts that get the bugs out of my system.

My therapy?  A quiet house all day today. No TV. Cleaning, organizing, a Starbucks latte to get me through. What helps you?