Changes

Those who know me well know that I am horrible at dealing with change.  Really, really bad.  Which is probably part of the reason that I cried for two weeks straight after having my first child.  (Well, that and the awful deluge of post-pregnancy hormones.)  But, the good news is that I have gotten much better.  (I only cried for mere days after the birth of my second child.)  Obviously, I am not "cured," by any means, but having kids has really helped me handle change with a little more grace.  Because, really, I am figuring that is what raising kids is about...constant change.  And dealing with it.  Because everytime you think you have them figured out, they change.

Change comes swiftly with kids...so quickly, you hardly realize it is happening.  Take this last month, for example:  Everly, within the last three weeks, has gone from two naps to one, has gone from four bottles of formula a day to just one in the morning and one at night, now gets two sippy cups of milk and snacks instead of the other two bottles, has switched from a rear-facing car seat to a front-facing one, and has taken her first steps.  No wonder she has been a little cranky.

Change with Cortlan is a little more subtle...yet, it is most definitely there.  His vocabulary and thought processes amaze me every day.  His enunciation is improving on a daily basis.  I swear, two days ago his beginning letters all sounded like "d's," and yesterday he said, "first" as if he had been saying it right all his life.  He is getting taller.  I need to put another mark on the back of his door, because he very well may have grown a half inch in the last week.  He is getting opinionated.  He is growing up.

Last night, I went into the laundry room and Mr. Giraffe was laying on the floor.  I carried him upstairs and showed him to John.  This makes me a little sad.  Cortlan has slept holding onto Mr. Giraffe since he was 7 months old.  (Gasp. Yes, I put a stuffed animal in bed with my child at 7 months old.  But I had a plan, and it worked.  He got attached to that giraffe, and when he started daycare, Mr. Giraffe went with him.  It was an irreplacable piece of home, and it helped my little boy sleep.  If Mr. Giraffe was there, we all felt good.)  So, the fact that Mr. G. was on the laundry room floor while said little boy was sleeping peacefully in his bed called attention to the change, and that made me a little sad.  

I am getting better at change, but I am pretty confident that I am still going to be that mom that bawls her eyes out on the first day of kindergarden...and at every other milestone in the book.  Don't even get me started about my little boy's wedding day.  I have, pathetically, already cried about that one.  (I have a theory about that - but I will leave that for a later post.)

I am getting better at change, and I am taking this growing-up thing all in stride.  At least, the best I can.  But I still tiptoed into Cortlan's room last night and snuggled Mr. Giraffe next to him in bed.  Just in case.