“How far apart are they?”
We get the question everywhere we go. Most often when we’re using the double stroller and you see two pairs of long toddler legs dangling there side by side. Mason and Georgia are 21 months apart… 21 months and 27 days to be exact.
After being married for 5 years, we finally felt ready to be parents. It’s a funny thing, how you’re not ready for so many years and then BAM, you need to be a mom yesterday. I was calm about it for about 2 months, then accidentally fell into the depths of trying-to-conceive obsession. I Googled and Googled some more, counted days, and took a very unnecessary amount of tests. In the end, it was about a year of waiting before we found out our little Mason was on the way.
Right after his 1st birthday, I remember calmly explaining to Eric my carefully thought out plan for his sibling-to-be. It was going to take another year, 6 months if we were lucky. I was cool as a cucumber. I felt almost smug taking my second turn on the TTC merry go round. Well, it turns out not stressing and Googling and crying and worrying can sometimes lead to…pregnancy. (Side note- I got the pleasure of shocking Eric with this news and it was fantastic.)
Being pregnant with a growing, active one year old is a real trip. As I got bigger, he got faster. Everywhere we went, I’d get the same thing. “Oh boy, you’re about to have your hands full!” Mason has always been my stage 5 clinger (and for that I love him), and I can remember him climbing all over my giant belly like he was scaling a mountain…ahh how the 2nd pregnancy differs from the first.
It wasn’t until we brought Georgia home from the hospital that I realized just what we had gotten ourselves into. My brother and sister-in-law came to visit that night and I will never forget Mason crossing over into the I-stayed-up-too-late-and-now-I’ve-lost-my-mind zone, running circles and screaming at the top of his lungs…right as Georgia decided she needed to nurse. And not in a quiet, precious and discreet way. In a difficult, we’re-still-figuring-this-out-and-I-can’t-have-guests-right-now kind of way. It was a complete sh*t show, and for the first of many, many times I thought oh my god we’ve scared them out of having kids, ever.
Juggling a newborn and a toddler proved to be one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I felt like having “2 under 2” earned me some sort of shiny gold mommy star that I was too tired to enjoy. The first year of having two kids that age is just a total blur. But there was beauty in the blur. Our brains, though foggy with sleep deprivation, were still fresh on all things baby. We fell into our old baby routines with Georgia and got to feel the glow of doing some things better the second time around. Simultaneously, we were watching Mason spring into toddlerdom at 100 MPH. He discovered something new every day, and we couldn’t get enough.
As we’ve blazed our trail toward having two (bigger) little kids, things have slowly changed for the
easier different. We’ve traded bottles and binkies for arguments and emotions. They fight. OH MY GOD they fight. All day. But in between the blow out, knock down argu-trantums, there’s the good stuff. The quiet conversations between them. The way Mason kisses the top of her head as he hugs her. The screams of wild laughter as they run through the house. It’s magic.
In a lot of ways, our world feels a bit like having twins. We need two of everything, and a plan for never-ending fairness. But through all the chaos, under eye bags, and hard work… having two wild, magical little beings living at our house is more of a blessing than I could have ever imagined.