When Driver and I decided to start trying to have another baby, I was excited and couldn't wait to be pregnant again. I remembered my pregnancy with Back Seat Girl as being wonderful and easy, of loving the feeling of her moving around inside of me, and how comfortable maternity pants are. I forgot about being sick and tired for 3 months, and I'm still in denial about how huge and uncomfortable it can be to have a full-grown newborn in your uterus just biding his time to come out.
Also, when I think of having a newborn, thus far I've only remembered Back Seat Girl being tiny and precious, of being able to sleep 5 hours at a time at night when she was only a few days old, of not having to worry about any kind of "schedule" because she would fall asleep no matter the situation, and not having to worry about punishing or teaching or anything like that, because you're only responsibility to a newborn is keeping it alive. I had forgotten about the constant pooping, of the soak pail always full of poopy onsies, of the no nap time in the middle of the afternoon, of how hard it is to get up at 4, even if you did get to sleep 5 hours uninterrupted, of not having time alone at night after your toddler goes to bed at 7:30, or the constant nursing, even if you feel like there is no way in hell the kid could possibly be hungry AGAIN, or the crying for no reason that you can think of.
Today, however, it all came back to me. I was in line at Target. Back Seat Girl was (of course) being an angel, sitting in the cart and (of course) talking. I had finished buying the few things on my list with ease, because all Back Seat Girl needs to keep her happy while running errands is Puppy, Pork Roll, and a bag of cheerios.
There was a woman checking out in front of me. She looked exhausted. She had a little girl in the cart about Back Seat Girl's age, whom she kept having to instruct to sit down. She was holding a tiny baby who was crying with no hope of being comforted. I flashed forward to my life in a few months, and then quickly started concentrating on taking my things out of the cart and putting them on the conveyor belt.
The good news is I'm back in denial. I feel fine, Back Seat Girl is napping, and I picture my life with two babies as being all rosy and wonderful. When I think of the poor, exhausted woman at Target, I just put her out of my head and think of my two perfect, wonderful children, happily smiling at each other while I go about my errands without a care in the world.
Potty Training Update:
Last night before her bath, Back Seat Girl showed renewed interest in her potty, so she sat on it for a while. Nothing came out of her, but I've decided to take her pediatrician's advice and give her one sticker for just sitting and two for actually producing. She was pleased. I was happy she was at least interested in it again.
This morning I got her up and was changing her diaper and I noticed a drop of pee on the changing table. I asked her if she needed to pee, and she enthustiastically said "Yea! I get anoda sticka". So, she went to the potty and promptly peed. Then, as she was finishing breakfast, she looked at me and said "I no have poopy". She says that when she does have to poop, but she wants me to leave her alone about it. I asked her if she wanted to poop on her potty, fully expected her to say no, but she was once again excited about the prospect of more stickers. So, she sat on her potty, and she actually pooped. A lot. I was pretty glad she hadn't done that in her diaper. So, I guess we're back on the potty training wagon again. I do have to say that rinsing all of that poop out of her potty is pretty darn gross, but better than wiping it off her butt.