Saturday, August 18, 2012

highs and lows

Having a third baby, having Sebastian, has been wondrous, amazing, thrilling, and over the top happiness inducing. I am madly, deeply, disgustingly in love. We all are. The way Gabe talks to him is hilarious- all goopy and silly in a husky baby talk voice he reserves only for Sebastian. Josie can't get enough of him, and 90% of the time it is the sweetest thing I've ever seen. She calls him "my baby" or "mac and cheese" (because that's her favorite food and he's her favorite baby) and she wants to touch him constantly. His arms, his belly, his face, she loves to smother him with kisses. I say 90% because she almost can't contain her love, so she wakes him up when he's sleeping or disturbs him when he's feeding, and God forbid she have a cold, it is actual physical and psychological torture to keep her away from him. And Josh... Josh is enjoying him in a way I haven't seen him enjoy a baby before. He is singing and laughing and rocking and kissing and snuggling. It helps that all Sebastian does is smile and coo and laugh. He's easy to love.

But what I didn't know, couldn't have realized, is that for every ounce of joy, there is a tiny, heartbreakingly painful bit of sadness because he is probably my last baby. I hate the thought of him growing up, even as I'm rejoicing every smile, every laugh, every swipe at a toy. I think that what makes the growing up even harder is that I have a real, live, funny, smart and engaging 5 and a half year old across the room. That 5 year old was JUST BORN. Was it yesterday? Because it feels like yesterday. There are days that go by where I realize I only hugged Gabe twice, in the morning and at bedtime, and for the rest of the day we played and swam and read and talked, but it only brings the passage of time into sharper focus.

I lie in bed at night and think about the fact that it is August and summer is almost over and I get out of bed to go stare at my three children in each of their beds (and bassinets) and lie down next to them and press my face into their hair and against their cheeks. I wish for them to grow up slower. I wish to be able to enjoy every day instead of getting caught up in chores and errands and our busy lives. And then I usually cry for a little while, because for all my wishing, they just keep growing and changing and I can't get enough of them.

I waited and prepared and planned for so long for this baby to arrive and now he is three months old and Gabe is starting kindergarten and Josie is going to a second year of preschool and HOW DID THIS HAPPEN? Tell me this gets easier please, because I don't know if I can do this for the next 25 years.