How are the announcements supposed to start? “We are excited to announce…”, “Three’s company…”, or “Sarah and I want you to be the first to know…”?
I can’t say that, because I’d be lying to you. I have two beautiful children. A toddler son that is a ball of nuclear energy, and a daughter that is just receiving her first tooth and just taking her first steps. The simple truth is, I’m happy with two kids. Happy is actually an understatement of epic proportions. I can’t imagine how I could possibly be happier with the state of my life.
Two kids are enough. Sarah and I are two humans. We have created two humans to replace us on this rock as it hurtles through space. Two in, two out.
For me, having two kids is exactly perfect.
And Audrey is ruining everything!
Audrey… precious little beautiful little Audrey. My little cupcake. The tiny little darling that crawls around the house and drools. on. EVERYTHING. Her babbles are the most adorable noises. And it’s her babbles that have me terrified.
8 months ago
“Isn’t she the cutest ****ing baby on the planet?” Sarah asked. It was, of course, a statement disguised as a question.
“She really is,” I replied.
What proceeded was a discussion about how happy we were to have both a son and a daughter. There was a time where we both wanted two sons. During Sarah’s pregnancy, she jumped over the fence and began wishing for a daughter. I kept my strength, however, and kept hoping for another boy. Needless to say, when I first saw Audrey’s beautiful face, my heart melted. She held out her tiny little hand, extended her tiny little finger, and I became firmly wrapped around it.
“If she says ‘dada’ first, we are having another baby.”
So, as I said, it’s Audrey’s babbling that has me terrified. I tried, I swear. Over and over again, I’d say to her “Audrey, can you say ‘mama’? ‘Mmmmmmaaammmmmaaaa’. Can you say… ‘mama’? See her? That’s ‘MAMA’ over there. Me? I am not ‘MAMA’. But her, she is your ‘MMMMMAAAAAAMMMMMAAAAAA’.” Then I’d whisper to her, “Don’t you screw this up, little girl.”
Even Tyler tried helping me. “Audwee, don’t say ‘dada’, okay? You haffa say ‘mamma’ first.”
I really don’t understand why she keeps crawling around babbling, “dadadadadadadadadadada” over and over and over again. I find myself wondering if Sarah is running around the house shouting “DA DA DA DA DA” eight hours a day, five days a week. And when I come home from work, she gives me the “remember, ‘dada’ equals baby in my belly” look.
“AUDWEE!! You HAFFA say ‘mama’, not ‘dada’. You’re so silly!”
So Audrey, please, knock it off. Our house cannot fit another full-time child. You can have a bunch of girl friends, and Tyler can have a lot of guy friends. They’re all welcome over here any time. They can even stay the night sometimes, but then they can go back to their own home.
For the love of everything that is still peaceful in this house… MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMama.
I sat down on the couch. It had been a long day at work, and I wanted nothing more than to relax for a bit and enjoy some silence. I have two kids that appear to love me very much, so “relax” and “silence” is virtually unknown in this house. I’m sure that my wife is having trouble reading these very words during her extremely exaggerated eye-roll as she silently shouts “YOU HAVE NO IDEA!!!! Try being home all day, EVERY day with these lovable monsters!”
So, it was absolutely no surprise that Tyler was running laps through the rooms while shouting “Hi daddy… bye daddy.” Sarah came to sit on the couch with me “Hi daddy… bye daddy.” to snuggle and make a little small talk. Audrey was in her room “Hi daddy… bye daddy.” taking a nap. I have no idea how she can sleep “Hi daddy… bye daddy.” through all the noise that her big brother makes during “Hi daddy… bye daddy.” every waking moment of the day.
There we were, enjoying one another’s company while my 9 month old daughter slept, and my three year old son charged through the house like a spider monkey hopped up on speed. I asked Sarah how her day had been, and was listening to her recap a day of fun, drama, crying, laughter and every other emotion that my strong-willed (to put it lightly) family can express. Mid-sentence, Tyler ran up to us and dropped a bomb. A bomb that I swear I’ve never even hinted at before.
“Mommy? Why aren’t you doing your job?”
“What job?” Sarah inquired, genuinely intrigued on where Tyler was heading.
“Cleaning the kitchen.”
I’m not the world’s smartest man, and I’ll never pretend to be, but I KNEW that my safest course of action would be to keep my word-hole shut and simply stare at the floor. So, imagine my surprise at myself when I burst out in laughter.
Not my smartest move.
Also, LOTS of new pictures in the September, October, November, and December photos over on Our SmugMug Site.