28 years young.

Hendrix's new favorite thing to announce is, "I have two babies, mama!" He usually pulls that one out while I'm nursing Roscoe and cuddling him at the same time. He'll sit back and say it as though he's realizing it for the first time, "I have two babies, mama!" Sometimes, he says it more like a question, "I have two babies mama?!" as though he's trying on the idea for size, moving around in his new role as a sibling.

I find myself whispering that to myself in the middle of the night between feedings. I curl up with my pillow after laying a perfect, sighing Roscoe down in his bassinet, in awe of my new life. "I have two babies. Two babies..."

In a lot of ways, I can barely reflect on the past year, because so much of it is all about this. I have two babies. My boys are my whole world. I am happier than I have ever been; I feel more at home in my skin than ever before. Life is so good.

A year ago, as I wrote this, Roscoe was a mere possibility, a conversation. Now he's here. My little boy, my family. I have two babies. There's not much else to tell right now; I am so blessed.

Roscoe Everett!

My little champ is already a week old! I can't believe that's possible. Roscoe is right now the joy of our life. He's absolute magic. I had no idea what to expect welcoming another member to this family, and I have to say, it's just right. He is meant for us, so perfect. He is our family.

His birth was intense. I'll be working on his birth story for a while, I'm sure. Things of note? I had my membranes swept at 10:30 in the morning on March 8th, and he was in my arms by 9:15 that night. It was back labor again. It was absolutely intense. My voice is still hoarse. I terrified most of the other people on the birthing floor. But? It was all natural, not even a tylenol. I died with love right away.

Hendrix loves his little brother. He does. Watching them meet was absolutely amazing.

It hasn't been easy. I can't tell you how much I wish I had 4 arms. Hendrix has been my EVERYTHING for the past 2 and a half years. There isn't a whimper that hasn't been answered immediately by me. And now, there's another whimperer in my house. As a matter of fact, he's kind of a screamer. He can't help it, really. That has been so hard to watch Hendrix deal with. As a matter of fact, I feel like I'm going through it with him. There has been a lot more melt-downs. He's become more aggressive. He's been fighting sleep like a ninja. It's everything you read about, you try to prepare yourself for, but there's nothing like experiencing it. Obviously, it has been breaking my heart. Last night, Eric walked Roscoe to sleep while I rocked Hendo, whispering a million love notes into his ears. He just kept kissing me and saying, "Yove you so much, mommy." I cried and cried after he fell asleep.

Think they look alike?

Obviously this is such a short season in our family. I'll blink and these boys will be fighting over the video game controller. But I so want to do right by the both of them. I want to love them both fully, to give them everything they need to feel whole and safe. For now, I have to remind myself that I'm doing all I can, and trust that all the love I've given and am giving Henry will help him to deal with this transition, and come out of it an even more confident and secure little 2 year old.

GAH. So, there's all that. I love my boys so much. There aren't words. We are so blessed.

Roscoe Everett

March 8th, 2012

7 pounds, 7 ounces

19 1/2 inches

perfect.

keepin' it real

I want to write about this picture, even though all I want to do is sleep, and I feel like crying-- I need to write about it. Today was one of those days. One of those "miss your child's nap window" days. One of those "lose your temper and feel like a terrible mother days." It's not easy, being a full time attachment parent. It's not. And now, with this little one coming (taking his precious time, but coming), I'm starting to feel all out of sorts and intimidated by the idea that soon and very soon, I will be juggling a newborn and a very high need toddler. That's scary, exciting, but scary.

Today, Henry fought his nap for 2 full hours. We tried everything: a drive, books, television, breathing, rocking, massage... nothing was working. All the while, here I am, 39 weeks pregnant, feeling nauseous, emotional and exhausted, trying to keep my cool. It was a terrible scenario, to be honest. But that's why I need to write about it, because you know what? He's asleep now. I put a little terror in the car and within 2 min, he became the little angel you see above. Then, I came home, and I put him in his bed, and he sighed the most perfect sigh and everything was right with the world again.

You know what? There will be more days like today, but then, I'm going to blink, and my little 2 year old is going to be in school. He wont be home with me all the time, and eventually, he'll be off on his own entirely. And you know what? I'd probably trade one of those future lonely (yet peaceful) afternoons for this crazy one.

So, I'm posting to remind myself that Henry will eventually go to sleep. I need to stop, breathe and cherish even these tough moments, because they are fleeting, Now, I need to take a nap. I can go all nesting crazy on those dishes later.