Lolo came home a week ago today. He's all love and joy, and breastfeeding and pooping and a wee bit of jaundice, but really just love and joy. He sleeps, he eats, he soils, and he looks good doing it all. And this development (Lolo, in our house) has been enough of an event that each member of the family, and their reactions and adjustments to it, deserves its own post. But in the interest of space, I will sum it up.
Cleveland and Lucie have adjusted well overall. They remember when Coco was born, so they have a frame of reference, and they've enjoyed making comparative notes between "the two babies in our house". They have each other, as playmates, mischief-mates, etc, and that has been helpful. When the afternoons devolve into chaos, they can seek refuge in their room and conspire.
Cleveland is infinitely sweet with his brother. He's all "awwww" and "he's so so sweet mama" and "i love how he smells". He's very conscientious ("don't worry, I used the hand sanitizer"), and very gentle. With Lolo. With Lucie, he's become something of a bully. I think Lolo's birth has coincided with a developmental stage in C's little boy brain that has hard-wired him to reach out (literally) and pinch, flick, shove, or even *gasp* spit on his sister. He's also into saying "I hate you Lucie" and "You're a poo-poo". He is seeking attention.
Lucie is also sweet and loving with Lolo, though she lacks something in the gentle department. She doesn't caress, she pets. She doesn't hug, she smothers. I find myself having to temper her relentless affection, however well-meaning it is, in the interest of ensuring that Lolo maintains a functioning airway. I've noticed her bullying Coco a bit in the way she's being bullied by cleveland. She's started getting aggressive with her, ripping toys away, shouting "NO COCO!!!!". When being harrassed by her brother, Lucie immediately becomes a victim, and she doesn't do well at taking responsibility for her own actions, because it's always "well, Cleveland did _______). She is seeking attention.
And Coco. Dear, sweet, baby girl Coco. When I walked in the house last Wednesday having not seen her for two days, I thought she was a different baby. She was enormous. Her legs were the fattest legs I'd ever seen. And I kept looking at her thinking "You're so big, shouldn't you be potty trained? Oh, and talking? Can't you get your own breakfast? You're no baby." And just like that, she wasn't. Lolo's arrival has been a big challenge for Coco, I would guess, her greatest challenge to date. Even as my lap shrunk and my belly grew, there was always room for Coco. Now, when feeding time comes, Coco is put aside (literally, I put her in her crib), and I know her feelings are hurt. She's become more verbal (mostly just screaming "Maaaa, Maaaaammm!"), I imagine both for attention and to remind the world that she exists. she's interested in Lolo but only a little. And as long as she's being played with and laughed at she's happy. The rest of the time, she is seeking attention.
Phil has been amazing. He was able to take a week off of work and took the big kids all over the place last week and cooked and shopped and cleaned and let me sleep and all the things that I've needed but haven't been asking for. He's back to work and my mother-in-law is visiting, so the assistance continues, and that's wonderful.
Because how am I doing? Well, I'm doing well. Physically I feel terrific. I'm tired but not unbearably so, and my "recovery" from labor feels as expeditious as the actual event. My mind is spinning, because school is starting soon and I want to be a great mom and I want my children to all know how much I love them; that all my babies are always my babies and we all want for something in this life but in our family it will never be love. I recently remembered the saying that "When a baby is born, a mother is also born". I think this isn't just true for the first child. I became a mother when I had Cleveland almost six years ago. But I became a different mother after Lucie was born, and so on, and now I'm different again. I'm a mother of four. I'm a mother of two boys and two girls, or four infinitely bright and possible spirits. I want to hold them all all the time. I want to give them the world. Then I remember that the world is theirs for the taking. My job isn't to dole it out to them. My job isn't even to make them see the possibilities. It's only love. To love them and to get out of their way so they can become. And I love them.
Also pictures:
