So, a few years ago, I took a pause on this journey of blogging just before the introduction of my third child. I was knee deep in being a boy mom when at the ripe age of 38, I found out I was expecting another bumbling bundle of joy. I was kind of in denial about being pregnant again and prolonged the affirmation of the wondrous news for a few weeks (okay months) longer than I normally would.
To be honest, I finally fessed up around my 5th month of pregnancy, with a Facebook post out of guilt and to quell any complaints from people I may have forgotten to tell. At that point, the easiest way to let the cat out of the bag was with a blatant belly pic! Boom! There you go, baby number 3 is on the way and all things we had planned must be reevaluated.
I tell you this because my third child is a force to be reckoned with and I am, in all honesty, terrified of the future battles she and I will endure. She is my closest ally and fiercest foe and has made it her lifelong cree to disagree with every, single, thing that I say. Seriously. Everything. But she is also my last baby, loudest cheerleader, girl power super hero and sweetest night cuddler, which is swiftly followed by nonstop front kicks to my back…….but I digress.
She managed to trick us the first two years of her life because she could not effectively communicate with words. Not the way she wanted to, with rebuttals, and sidebars, and objections. She was restricted to one-word replys and she didn’t have many words to choose from. She sat quietly in her carrier, while being courted around to multiple soccer games, playdates and birthday parties of her two big brothers. She would sit in that carrier with a pacifier or a bottle and watch the world go by. The perfect little baby with her cute bows and beautifully curious eyes. Yes, I was fooled just like everyone else and didn’t take the hints that were dropped to show who this little girl really was until she could walk and talk on her own.