Losing My Babe-In-Arms

M stood unsupported today for the first time. He just looked confused, standing there arms outstretched, not holding on to anything. I don't think it even occurred to him he could take a step, he seemed so shocked simply to be upright on his own.

It will probably be a few months now before he's competently walking, but the writing is on the wall now, isn't it? I told T just the other day that it only just recently registered with me that I'm going to have TWO children to care for now. He looked at me quizzically, so I explained that up until last week I've been caring for a child and an infant. Which is to me very different than two children. In my mind, I like caring for an infant because they are so totally dependent on you, they're practically an extension of yourself. They have a lot of needs, certainly, but they don't have anything as pesky as their own opinion. They're pretty happy to go along with whatever you'd like. At worst, they have preferences, but I found those easy to manage. M preferred to be held, so I held him all day long. I liked it. Win-win.

But once they get a little taste of freedom, things start getting harder. Already M needn't rely on me for 100% of his sustenance now that he eats three meals a day of regular food. He crawls where he wants to, and is no longer content to sit in my lap all day. W chimes in with his two cents on everything from what he wants to do that day to what we listen to on the car radio. Fortunately I've set a precedent that I don't negotiate with terrorists, so he only gets what he wants when he remembers to ask nicely (which is a low percentage of the time, mostly he just demands, and then I ignore him). But it's still exhausting when your every move is countered by some sort of resistance. Or at best, is questioned (Why are we going to the store? Because we need milk. Why do we need milk? Because you ask for it thirteen times a day. Why, mama, why? You tell me, sweetheart. Tell you what? Sigh.). And in no time, I will have not one, but two little inquisitors, won't I? At which point I'll probably start bugging T for baby number three, just so I can have one little bundle of cuteness that lets me take care of it the way I want, no questions asked. Ahh.