As parents, we strive to give our children everything.
Unfortunately, sometimes they take too much. Especially when it comes to bed space.
I have a lot of stuff on my mind, lately, most of which revolves around the forthcoming arrival of my second child.
We are about the enter the final trimester, and as we cross that checkpoint, shit is getting real. We just moved to a bigger place in order to make room for both the baby and for all the attendant baby gear we’re going to need. In fact, we’ve already started accumulating some of it.
And yet all the baby stuff that has begun filling up our physical space is nothing compared to the baby stuff that’s been filling up my head space.
It’s ridiculously easy for children to get hurt.
This is one of those truths that’s so obvious and terrifying that we try not to think about it too much lest we go insane with worry. Naturally, as Mom and Buried and I await Detective Munch’s new partner, I haven’t been able to keep it out of my mind.
The impending new addition has me stressing out about many things: having enough space, having enough money, having enough sleep, having enough quiet, having enough diapers. But mostly I’ve been fixating on how fragile little kids are.
Mostly because we’re moving to an apartment that has a second floor and I really don’t want to shell out for a new baby gate.
I’m not going to lie, I’m pretty nervous about impending baby number two.
While I’m excited to have a new child to mock for your entertainment, the thought of having to suddenly take care of a helpless baby again is not filling me with joy. The little I remember of the last experience isn’t exactly sunshine and roses.
Lots of late nights, loss of sleep, extra laundry, messy kitchen, the list goes on. But there was one silver lining: I caught up on a lot of my favorite shows!