Middle Child Syndrome

It's been a bit crazy around here over the last few weeks. Aside from the regular crazies, we've acquired a new addition during the day -- I've agreed to watch a friend's son, Brady. He is a precious little thing ... all round, sweet-smelling and squishy. At 18-months old, he is quite a little bundle of joy. (OK, so he's not that little, but still a cutie, all the same.) When Brady's mom and dad were trying to decide what to do about daycare for him, Tim decided that I should watch him during the day. I'm here anyway, and I obviously don't do anything all day long, so I guess I needed a hobby. Now I at least have a little boy around for Tanner to play with (as opposed to sitting around, sucking his thumb, and watching TV all day while I do ... well, nothing ... obviously ...) and some cash coming in. It pays enough to pay for groceries, which means we can put that money towards something else. So it's a win-win situation ... my friend didn't have to put her baby in daycare and I get to make some cash.

But ...

Well, while Tanner enjoys being the big boy (when Brady's here, he's all, "I'm the big brudder. I'll hep Brady do dat. I'll go poddy before Brady. I'll hep you make Brady's lunch.") most of the time, I can tell he's having a really hard time dealing with sharing the Mommy.

Of course, Tanner always shares the Mommy, right?

Well, not really. If you remember, Big Sissy goes to school and Tanner gets to have the Mommy all to himself all day long.

Until now.

While we were strolling along nicely, trying to get some semblance of a routine going, everything was fine. We were pottying ... sharing ... loving Big Sissy when she got home ...

But then at night we (meaning Tanner) started waking up at night, just to come get the Mommy and have her tuck us (meaning him) back in. No biggie, I guess. He goes right back to sleep (I think) 99% of the time.

Anyhoodle. My point ...

This week Kendall was out of school. Which I was actually looking forward to, and then it snowed and was freezing, so we were stuck ... trapped ... confined ... like caged animals ... to this house all week. I actually thought (Oh, silly me!) that having Kendall here would be helpful. She's a wonderful little helper and "babysitter;" however, I quickly realized that Kendall thinks Brady is more of a "baby" than he actually is. She wants to old him and carry him around like a baby doll. She talks to him in this high-pitched little voice that drives me bonkers.

Don't get me wrong, she's still super helpful. She takes both the boys potty, she helps change diapers, she pours juice and milk, makes snacks, and loves on Brady when he is tired. But still, she has completely overturned the "routine" we were building.

So not only have I had to remind Tanner how much his mommy is still his mommy ("You my mommy, right?"), but I've also had to remind him that Sissy is still his Sissy.

Add that to the guilt I'm already feeling about not being Super Mommy, and we're a big ole mess.

So this week Tanner became the Middle Child. You know the middle child -- not the first born ... not the baby ... the one who just sorta fades into the woodwork and isn't special for any particular reason. (OK, I absolutely don't believe that, but I've heard from some other middle children-friends of mine that this is, in fact, how they feel at times.) So Tanner has gone out of his way to make sure he has been noticed ... whether it be by drawing on the rug with markers, coloring in his books with chapstick, spitting his milk at lunch, clinging to my leg at the most inopportune times, or inflicting pain on the other kids.

And he is wearing me out.

Hence the thought of updating the blog but then never really getting around to it.

So as hubs is at work, the kiddos are in the bed, and the dog is snoring, I am going to sit here and update my blog and then really do nothing.

Obviously.

And tomorrow I'll spend some extra time loving on Tanner, reminding him that he is my one and only precious baby boy.

And always will be.