Getting to Know You

I am sitting here in the peace and quiet (finally). Actually, it’s not so peaceful or quiet, with the windows open and the wind and rain tearing through the neighborhood, and the thunder crashing. But those are very peaceful sounds when you are used to two young kids who together usually make even more of a racket.
Even while the two little ones make a lot of noise together, I’ve found that I have a relatively quiet new one. Iris has always been loud and demanding, and I suppose that I had prepared myself for another in the same vein. Linnea has surprised me. It’s not as though she doesn’t cry at all—she does when she’s hungry or really wants to be held (she wants to be held all of the time, but she only cries for it sometimes), or when she wants to sleep (she’s a bit more sensitive to sleep than Iris ever was). But she’s not demanding. In fact, she’s rubbish at crying. We noticed this right from the get-go. When she works herself up, her voice gives out. It’s a bit pathetic, really, but so cute. You actually feel quite bad for her crying, so it’s rare to feel frustrated with her at all. Besides the fact that she never went through a crying-for-no-reason-we-could-discover phase the way Iris (and most babies) did. It’s wonderful to be able to understand what she wants the majority of the time!
I found out just how little Linnea cries yesterday at her two-month check up. I have not been looking forward to this appointment at all—I remember Iris’ first shots, and the betrayed look she gave me while screaming in pain. It made me cry to see my baby like this, and I was dreading seeing my second go through this as well. I held her on the table, feeling like a traitor, while the nurse held down her legs. The nurse gave the first shot. Linnea looked at me, her forehead wrinkling. The nurse gave her the second shot. Still not a peep. Only after the nurse started putting the band-aids on did Linnea’s bottom lip begin to stick out in a desperately sad look. But that was it—no crying, at least not from her. I cried while she looked at me curiously, but I was incredibly relieved that she didn’t seem to mind the shots too much. We’ll see what happens next week when we have to go back in for two more.

We also got a great sleeper in Linnea. I always thought that Iris was a good sleeper—sleeping through the night at nine months, waking up sometimes when I go in to check on her, but always saying “night-night” and going straight back to sleep. She has nothing on Linnea. For a week now, Linnea has been sleeping through the night. And I’m not talking the six-hour sleeping through the night. I’m talking about putting her to bed at 8 pm, and not waking up until 6 or 7 the next morning. Ah, bliss. How did I get so lucky? Who could ask for more from a two-month-old? Even before that, she had been sleeping that same pattern for about two or three weeks, only waking once at night. It’s been ages since I slept so well.
It’s been fun so much fun to get to know Linnea. I had so many worries about having a second—worries about not loving another as much, about not having enough time for her. But I’m finding that those worries are disappearing, and I’m enjoying being a mom of two even more than I enjoyed being a mom of one. And even though I definitely appreciate the current quiet, I appreciate the girls I was blessed with more than I could ever say. They are the light of my life. Sorry to all of you other moms out there, but I have the two best kids that have ever lived on this earth.