Argh! I want a second baby so bad!

I finally have to be honest and admit it to myself. I want a second baby. Yes, already. My first is almost fifteen months and I already want another one. I’ve wanted another one since he was tiny, but it was an abstract, vague longing.

Not so much anymore. All of the signs are there. I think about it a lot. I am jealous of moms pregnant with their second or third and so on. (Well, most of the time. There were two moms pregnant with their second in Max’s music class the other day and I wasn’t jealous at all.) I am watching “A Baby Story” again. I half hope I won’t get my period some months.

But I don’t think it’s time. I know Chris isn’t quite ready, although he’s being very understanding with my talking about the next one quite a bit. I’m frustrated because I don’t quite understand my feelings. I’m not sure whether I want another baby now or I’m just looking forward to the time when we will be ready and go for it. Do I really want one now and am just ashamed to admit it, because I know some people will think I’m crazy? Or am I just looking forward to it like Christmas – it will be so awesome when it gets here, but it’s not quite time yet.

I’ve always liked a challenge, so that might be one reason I feel ready for another now. I’ve also been known to bite off more than I can chew occasionally, although I pretty much always come through and achieve my goals. I’m not a procrastinator anymore, so I’m not so worried about biting off more than I can chew.

Plus, I just love kids. I always imagined myself having several close together. The reality of motherhood has changed that desire a little bit, but I don’t know if I really want to let it go. I might still want that.

Things are just so perfect with Max right now, though. It is challenging and I get tired, but he is just so cute and sweet and fun. I love him more than everyday. He really is wonderful and keeps my life full and I feel slightly guilty for wanting more, like he’s not enough or something. I know that’s silly, but I feel it anyway.

Plus, I’ve just started to feel like me again the past few months. I tend to suffer from anxiety and it was exacerbated by the postpartum hormones. However, I’ve gotten my day-to-day anxiety under control. I feel better than I have in a decade probably. I really don’t think the depression and anxiety and insomnia will happen next time. And, if they do, I’m not going to suffer like I did last time. I’ll stop nursing or do whatever I have to do, so I can take Unisom or whatever so I won’t be going crazy from sleep deprivation and trying to take care of two kids at the same time.

So, I feel like me again and I also feel like I’m much more on top of things as a mom. So, of course, I want to upend everything! You know, for funsies! For shits and giggles! I have trouble just leaving things alone and enjoying them as they are. But is it that or do I truly want another one right now??

Finally, I really don’t want to rush Chris. I want us both to be happy and excited about it. And I don’t think he’s there yet. Which is totally understandable. We’ve been through so much the past few years. We’ve had a lot of big changes back to back. We got together, we moved in together four months later, we got engaged seven months after that, got married six months after that, and got pregnant nine months later. Max was born 17 months in to our marriage and we moved when he was almost eight months old. It’s only been seven months since we moved. Maybe we need a little more downtime. In fact, I’m almost sure we do.

Right now, I’m just trying to be patient with myself and take it day-to-day, seeing how I feel. I’m so glad to get this off my chest, though. For some reason, I felt like it was a dirty little secret to possibly want a second baby already. But it’s not. I am going to be honest and just say it – I think I want another one, if not now, soon. But I don’t know when it will happen. And I’m not completely sure of my feelings so …. thoughts? Perspectives from moms who already have two or more? From dads? I do feel like I’m going a little crazy trying to analyze my feelings here sometimes.

One thing I do know – it will be crazy and hard, but it will be amazing when we have another child. We’ll wonder how we ever lived without him or her. I know that even all of you who are reading this and thinking I’m crazy right now are also thinking that deep down. Being a mom is amazing. And I can’t wait to do it all over again.

This lesson is brought to you by Gerber

My son’s Gerber Graduates Strawberry Apple Puffs have “natural strawberry apple flavor” listed as one of the ingredients. Now there is such a thing as a strawberry apple. (The first time I ever heard of it was in “Anne of Green Gables”; here’s a link to the chapter mentioning them Here’s a link to some varieties: However, I kind of doubt that Gerber actually uses flavoring from actual strawberry apples in their Puffs. What do you think?
Come to think of it, my son’s Gerber Grins and Giggles Toothpaste has “natural apple banana flavor” listed as an ingredient. Now I was SURE there was no such thing as an “apple banana”, but I just checked and I’ll be damned if there isn’t: Still, do you really think Gerber uses flavoring from apple bananas in their toothpaste? Huh. Maybe they do. This is obviously very preliminary research. I’ll have to look in to it further.
Well, this post really took a turn. I learned something new. Thanks, Gerber and the aforementioned websites! Now I just have to FIND a strawberry apple … I have wanted to try one ever since I first read “Anne of Green Gables”.

Feeling like

A bad mom for not realizing that I was supposed to give him a new food everyday for three days (or four or five or six or seven depending on who you’re talking to or reading) before introducing the next one. We have been waiting the amount of time recommended by our doctor between new foods, but have been feeding him whatever we or he wanted in his established repertoire during the days between “new food” days. D’oh!


If I am a bad mom for not making homemade baby food regularly? Can the stuff in the jars be that bad? It’s organic!

The miracle of Thanksgiving

Chris, Max, and I went to my parents’  house in Longview, TX, for Thanksgiving. It’s roughly a four and a half hour drive from our house in Austin, but it can easily balloon to five and a half or even six when traveling with a baby. Max is still eating every three hours, but luckily, we are able to give him bottles on the road. We usually manage to make the  trip with only one stop for a feeding.

However, there was an unscheduled stop in Jacksonville, TX. Max had been fussy in the car, due to boredom and the sun getting in his eyes at times, despite my best efforts to shield them. I finally got him to sleep just as we got to Jacksonville, after many hummed renditions of Brahms’ “Lullaby”.

I was just about to tell Chris how Max had fallen asleep with one of his legs in the air when I noticed something protruding from his diaper. You see, lately, Max has started pooing only once a week. (We have told our doctor and it’s nothing to worry about.) While it is nice to have so few poopy diapers, there is usually a copious amount once the poop does land. Of course, he waited for his weekly poop until we were on the road in East Texas. Add to this the fact that we were not expecting another weekly poop, because he had just had one on Monday.

So, I took a closer look at the substance protruding from the diaper. It was getting dark out, but the light from the IPhone revealed that there was poo oozing from the diaper. Due to the fact that he had fallen asleep with his leg in the air, it had not soiled his outfit or the carrier. Also, I would not have seen it otherwise and I couldn’t smell it for some reason.

Horrified, I stage-whispered to my husband, “Hey, Chris, there’s poop coming out of his diaper!” Due to the semi-calm whispering tone of my voice, my husband at first was unsure about the urgency of the situation. We were soon in the parking lot of the post office, grossing out unsuspecting folks dropping off their holiday mail.

The only reason I can think of that my son would fall asleep in such an unprecedented position, thereby allowing us to save his outfit, his carrier, and our sanity on that long, cold drive is The Miracle of Thanksgiving. So, all ye citizens of Jacksonville, TX, take heart. When you smell that weird odor still lingering around the post office, you are actually getting a whiff of true holiday magic.

How does Max know …

to start crying the minute Mommy is getting her hair stroked or her back rubbed or being pampered in any way??


Since my teens, I have had a touch of OCD. Well, maybe more than a touch, but fortunately, not the level of Jack Nicholson in As Good As It Gets. I am able to control it when I want to (while going crazy inside 😉 ), but only to a certain extent.

It started in high school and escalated during my super-neurotic, overachiever state in college. I had to check all of the door locks every night in a certain order. Luckily, we had a small apartment with only two doors, which were in the same room. I hadn’t yet progressed to checking windows and the stove and oven yet. However, I spent an inordinate amount of time checking those two doors. No matter how long I stared I could not convince myself that the damn doors were as locked as they were going to get. Finally, I would convince myself that I could believe my eyes (I’m not really sure how long that took, but it was about the same amount of time every night.) and go to bed.

This continued even after I moved into an apartment of my own with chains and security bars on the door. (Hey, I lived in a college town. Those are candy stores for predators. I’d already caught a Peeping Tom at my bathroom window.) By then, I had started checking the windows. (Yes, Dad, this is what happens when you tell your children too many stories about how every stranger they see is a potential kidnapper. How even the seemingly harmless older couple across the street could be kidnappers and you should never, ever even make eye contact with anyone you don’t know, because you might disappear forever and meet some horrible fate.)

Now that I am living in a house with my husband and child, my routine runs a bit more smoothly. I do check everything, but I only do it once (most of the time). However, I have added a few weird things. For instance, I always check my husband’s deodorant bottle and container of hair product every morning to make sure he has put the lids back on properly. (I don’t want the cats getting in and eating any of that stuff.) However, I am also a multi-tasking mommy these days. I attempted to check the deodorant a couple of mornings ago while also brushing my teeth and moving my compact. (All after about a month of not really sleeping.) Of course, on that one morning, the lid wasn’t on all the way. The deodorant fell, knocking the compact on to the floor, causing me to take both the Lord’s and his Son’s names very much in vain. Blasphemously in vain. Noting that my prayers might get through faster if I would stop insulting two out of the Big Three, I apologized and prayed that my son hadn’t woken up. He hadn’t. Thank God. (And I say that respectfully.)

You’d think I would have learned my lesson from that incident. Oh, no. Yesterday (Again while Max was napping. I get in to so much mischief when he naps.), I just had to make sure the top was securely on the Tupperware container containing the previous night’s brisket, which was now my lunch. I tested it once. Not good enough. Twice. Still not good enough. A third time. The top flies off and the bowl skitters toward the microwave. I meekly replace the lid and put it in the fridge. No more checking. No more blaspheming. My son stayed asleep. I guess I am learning to let go of my fears and neuroses after all. A few more accidents should cure me completely.

The TV is your friend

That whole “no screen time for children under 2” thing? Not workin’ for me. Luckily, I talked to my mother-in-law on Wednesday and she said she let my husband watch lots of TV when he was little. Actually, she thinks that’s why he learned to talk so soon. He is super-smart and definitely not a TV addict, so I feel much better now about letting Max stare for a few minutes here and there while I take a breather.

Soothing toy or baby voodoo?

My husband and I recently purchased a Baby Einstein Baby Neptune Soothing Seascape for our son. My sister had one for her son and she let me try it out at her house one week. Max seemed to like it, but he didn’t seem completely enamored of it. I guess it is hard to be soothed when your almost-two-year-old cousin is running around and you are in imminent danger of having your head stomped on.

Tiffany said the toy definitely helped them, so I finally overcame my mommy-brain a couple of weeks later and found one on Amazon and purchased it. When it arrived, my husband found some batteries and we set it up next to the bouncy seat in the kitchen while we ate dinner. Max seemed even less soothed than before.

We have been trying to train Max to take naps in his crib for about a month now, in preparation for moving him back to his room at night. We had had very little success. I would get him to sleep, only to run back in to his room three or four times within a forty-minute time frame to replace the pacifier and soothe him back to sleep. I set the turtle up on the side of his crib the day after its arrival with a little hope still left.

Lo and behold. Max began to stare at the turtle with the most curious look on his face. He looked like he was being soothed against his will. It’s the only way to describe it. He was calm, but looked puzzled by it, with his little brow all furrowed. However, he was asleep within minutes. This miracle has been repeated several times a day for the past week.

After the delight and surprise wore off, I began to wonder. Was I really soothing my baby or does the toy have some kind of baby voodoo that compels them to sleep against their will? And if it does, is that really such a bad thing??

Despite the guilt over my caving in to “mechanical parenting” (Lord, how I wish I had never heard of that phrase.), I have come to know that naptime in the crib during the day is a beautiful, beautiful thing. For a few brief, forty-minute to one hour periods a day, my house is mine again. Plus, it takes surprisingly little time for me to miss that smiling face. Which smiles a lot more when he gets proper naps.

I think I agree with my mom. “Mechanical parenting” be damned. Or, at least, not eschewed completely. As Mom wisely said, “If it makes him sleep, just enjoy it.” Or something to that effect. (Sorry, Mom, anything said to me more than a day ago is usually long gone these days.)

Yea! My son is sleeping through the night.

Unfortunately, I wake up every morning with the front of my nightgown soaked in milk and yet still feel like my boobs are going to explode.

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