Hurricane Hadley has been going through a phase that has made me nervous the past two months: the perfect angel phase. Seriously. You’d think I could just enjoy her fun little personality but at the back of my mind, I am waiting for the fallout. These days, she finally sleeps through the night, naps 2-3 hours a day, is spirited, outgoing, loving, hilarious and is so dang enjoyable I just want to devour her rapidly-disappearing chubs.
Y’see, I’m not one of those annoying moms who constantly raves about how perfect her children are. Of course, I love my Hurricane dearly but I am well aware of her shortcomings. I should be: she is genetically predisposed to act like me. And as my own mother declared when she realized I had, in actuality, birthed Mini-Me: “PAYBACK, Amber. PAYBACK.”
Cute as she is, The Hurricane was a cranky, colicky baby. She screamed for hours, never latched on when nursing and rarely slept. Whenever folks commented, “Oh, doesn’t time just fly by?” I looked at them, exasperated, and proclaimed, “Actually, that first year was the longest of my life.” I am just not into sugar-coating like so many in the Mommy World.
I read a blog recently from somewhere in cyberspace and this woman’s honesty totally resonated with me. She confessed that it wasn’t until her child turned 2 that she truly emerged as a parent. That it seemed as though there was a postpartum fog that fell over the first couple of years of her children’s lives that was magically lifted at the onset of 2.
It was upon reading this that I finally got it: it’s not that I didn’t love my little baby and build many wonderful memories with her. It’s just that I don’t care to fraternize with children whose lives are measured in months. Well, at least not with spirited/irascible newborns who take after their mother.
But now that Hadley is a talking, walking, playing, active, full-fledged contributing member of society (she does, after all, excel when swiping my VISA card at the store), I am so enamored by her every move. Oh, and the fact that she finally seems to genuinely like me also helps.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that even though I’m excited (and SOOO ready) for baby #2 that I’m experiencing a sense of loss over my alone-time with Hadley. OK, OK, and also trepidation that Junior could be just like me. Is that so wrong and abnormal?
Of course, with a thoughtful, loving and mellow husband, there’s always hope for him. After all, the good Lord wouldn’t send TWO Mini-Mes to one family. Errr…would He?
I'm a Canadian-born mom of two, former Denver Post columnist, family travel writer, editor of MileHighMamas.com and 9News contributor. Expert on all things Utah, Denver, family and travel. Lover of laughter and life. Happily married to a man obsessed with growing The Great Pumpkin. 
