parenthood, personal

YOZO: Second Time Mom Life is My Best Life

Second time mom life is my best life. It’s also the craziest life I’ve ever had, but I vividly remember the weight of the Anxiety Elephant that lived on my chest during the first year with Lincoln. I was always so paranoid about everything. Everything. Diapers. Wipes. Diaper rash. Germs. Paci. Sleep crutches. SIDS. Solids. Purees. Wake times. Just, all the freaking “wake times” and “dream feeds”.  Second kid though? The Elephant is ABSENT!

Y’all let’s do Target diapers!
Sure, she can sleep in bed with us!
Formula at night? PLEASE.
Oh you’re six months, here’s a banana!
Here, I can’t find any toys, play with this plastic Tupperware.
Oh, you don’t want to nap? That’s fine, we have stuff to do anyway.
Oh you dropped your paci on the floor at Target? Here ya go. *does nothing*
Oh you actually don’t like the paci? No problem. *breastfeeds everywhere anywhere all the time*
Bedtime? What bedtime? Let’s keep her awake because she’s so cute and I barely saw her today!

Maybe I’m just perpetuating the Second Kid Has No Boundaries thing (hi, I’m a second kid and I can tell you.. I STILL live for loopholes), but honestly I am enjoying this baby addition to our life 27492919182617x more than I enjoyed Lincoln. And I really enjoyed him A LOT, even within the parameters of baby schedules and such.

Also, ask me how fast Lincoln grew up. It was a blink. I blinked and he was weird colored, screaming at me fresh out of the womb and then I blinked again and he was three years old and counting the cars on the car transporter truck from the backseat window. Correctly. Counting, like with numbers. Who the eff taught him numbers?!?

So, after a few months of trying to get her to nap on a schedule and to eat on a schedule and play on a schedule, and show me sleepy cues after the appropriate wake time and whomp whomp whomp, I asked myself: What if I allowed myself to just enjoy her on her terms? Instead of stressing the heck out all the time because she doesn’t sleep or eat at the right times. And yes, there were “right” times she could sleep or eat. For example, when Lincoln was napping or having lunch or at preschool. ANY of those times would be great for a nap, Emmeline. Instead she chose choice letter D: None of the above.

We’ll sleep train eventually, she’ll eat meals with us eventually, and sleep through the nigh eventually. After all, you’re only zero once. YOZO.

*These photos are from the day she was feeling 100% better after a nasty run in with Roseola. Probably from the lack of Paci Washing and Tupperware Teethers. Should also mention that I really don’t have time for Mom Guilt the second time around. Futher evidence of The Best Life.

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