Lucia, my sweet second-born, turned one last week. I’m going to say it… My, oh my, how this year flew by. I’m not being trite! It genuinely surprised me how quickly the year passed, mostly because the first year Max’s life felt like an eternity. I’m not saying there was something better or worse about either one of them. This is probably a typical observation of a parent of two.
It’s been a whole new experience with Lucia. We all savored the moments of her tiny days. We enjoyed her first year so much, due to a sense of acceptance we didn’t have the first time around. When our first-born was a colicky infant, Oskar and I literally counted down the days until the 12 week mark, since the books said that’s when colic would ease up. When he rolled over for the first time, I rejoiced, of course, and posted 500 pics of it on Facebook, as any first-time mom would, but the next day I would start to get impatient about the next milestone. I wanted to experience a one-year-old and the terrible twos (why??? why, I will never know) and the stage after that. I was eager and nervous, and at the end of those long, difficult days, I wanted to get to the point when motherhood got easy. Because DAY-UM, it was hard.
Don’t get the wrong idea- Max isn’t and wasn’t terrible. He’s 100% amazing, and just a tiny bit terrible. When it came to parenthood, I was a slow learner. I had no idea how to be patient. Poor Max had to teach me how to be a mom. He had to break each one of my selfish tendencies. Luckily, with his iron-clad will, he was definitely cut out for the job! He paved the road for Lucia, and taught me how to really love and enjoy a baby. If I had to put my finger on it, I’d say the primary reason parenting my second baby was more enjoyable is this:
I stopped waiting for it to be easier.
Lucia is a different and objectively calmer baby, but my perspective as a second-timer is the big factor in my enjoying her first year. By accepting that parenthood is hard and is a struggle and is sacrifice, I found peace with the inconveniences of little babies. Now I’m a more obnoxious baby ogler that any great-aunt out there. Show me a baby 2 ounces smaller than Lucia and I will gush and blubber in the most embarrassing way. Good Lord, what a sweet oxitocin rush I get from a newborn. Whew.
OK, back to Lulu. That baby is a miniature version of her daddy in appearance, but more like her mom in personality (poor thing). She is brimming with smiles, spirit and SPUNK! She runs after brother, vehemently shakes her head “NO!” when I mention bed-time, and eats and drinks everything but cow’s milk, which she throws to the ground each time it’s offered. Here’s the first year of her life, a month at a time.
August (newborn)
We meet, face to face.
September (1 month)
First dress.
October (2 months)
Sweet baby!
(first professional photos taken after bad bout with baby acne)
Sib love.
November (3 months)
Here come those dimples!
And the chub!
December (4 months)
Oskar loves his little girl.
January (5 months)
Love. Her.
February (6 months)
Can’t get enough of that smile!
March (7 months)
Not sure what to do with her eggs.
April (8 months)
Hair-bows!
May (9 months)
Yes, we swim in May.
June (10 months)
July (11 months)
August (1 year)
Little lady would only eat the cake when we gave her a spoon.
Happy Birthday, my sweet Lucia! You and your brother have enriched my life and given me more love than I ever imagined. How blessed we are to have you in our lives!
