The Worst Part of Being a Parent

With just a couple of weeks to go before we meet our exciting new addition, our family is already changing before my eyes. Toddler B will be three in just over a week, and recently I realized the one thing that is truly the worst part of being a parent.

It's not the sleepless nights, the toddler tantrums, the battles over bedtime or the constant worrying. The worst part is a very different kind of unknown.

Last Thursday, B stopped napping. Usually on weekends he would consistently fall asleep in the car, I'd carry him inside on my shoulder and snuggle on the sofa, snoozing for an hour or two before snack time. He still looks like a baby when he's asleep. Not just a blur of activity and motion and dirt and noise like he does during every waking hour. He's safe and warm and comfortable in his mommy's arms. But last Thursday, he stopped napping.

Maybe he'll do it again on occasion after a busy day or while battling a cold, but I don't know when that will be or if it will happen or how many times. I realized... the worst part of parenting is not knowing when it's the last time, while you're in the last time.

Someday I will nap with him on the sofa in my arms for the last time. It may have already happened. Someday I will carry him from the car for the last time, or help him use the potty, or put a band-aid on a hurt knee. On all of these occasions I will just go about the task routinely, unaware of the monumental privilege I may never have again. The last time will come and go, only for me to try to remember later when I realize there hasn't been another.

They don't tell us. We don't get a notification. It's not written down in a book of developmental milestones. There's no fanfare or celebration or recognition. These moments just pass as part of life.

Soon I'll be singing happy birthday to my baby boy. And welcoming another life that will be full of last times. Luckily for me we all still have so many firsts to look forward to.

Almost Ready

At 36 weeks, we're officially a month away from our baby boy. After a pretty rough third trimester riddled with cold virus after cold virus because of my compromised immune system, I'm finally feeling normal again, or at least as normal as one can feel while carrying a bowling ball around in their stomach all day and night. I recently came to an agreement with my baby bump, that he'll arrive at a time and date convenient with my busy schedule. After all, it's the least he can do for putting me through all that discomfort.

So far, he's holding up his end of the bargain as we get ready for his arrival and I wrap up our most important project of the year at work, as well as plan Toddler B's third birthday party. I still have a few things to check off my list- install the infant car seat, pack a hospital bag, etc. But we recently completed one major transition that was essential for baby's arrival- B's big boy bed.

If there's one pregnancy stereotype that's true in my case, it's nesting. I love getting the house ready for a new baby even if it means redesigning a toddler room instead of a nursery. Since we already have what we need for a baby from Toddler B, I was excited to take on the task of painting, planning and assembling everything in his brand new room. Don't worry, I wore a medical mask while painting and I only lifted half a bed. Despite crazy looks from my

husband for being a little too ambitious for someone in their third trimester, we finished B's new superhero room just in time for the
new year. He loves his new room and his new bed!

The nursery has been converted back into a true nursery with diapers and all, and is waiting for its new tenant. 

At 36 weeks, baby boy weighs almost 6lbs and should be about 18 inches long (although the kicks in my ribcage indicate he may be as tall as his brother was.)