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It’s been six weeks since Courtland’s arrival.

Since that day, my six week postpartum appointment has been starred on James’ calendar. He may have made a countdown clock on his computer for the big day. The day when we get the green light from my midwife that all is healed and we can once again return to the more intimate aspect of our marital relations.

We went into the office on Tuesday, and while all my internal womanly bits have recovered and returned to their respective homes among the organ line up, the external tear from Kaki’s birth is still not fully healed.

Womp womp.

Do not pass go. Do not collect $200 dollars.

James is a sad panda. Although I’m breathing a sigh of relief, as I sensed that I wasn’t yet ready to return to that aspect of my life. And it’s quite convenient to have it backed up by physical evidence.

Thanks, Vagina!

Also, I can’t imagine that either of us would have the energy for such an exercise. When given that kind of time to ourselves, we’d much rather be sleeping, as the household is rather busy and chaotic with two little girls and two unruly canine beasts running around, demanding our attention and care. When we have the luxury of a couple of hours to ourselves, quite frankly, we’d rather be occupying it with slumber. Also, it’s hard to get in the mood when your breasts are that of a leaky faucet and you’re lying in a bed stained with spit up and drool.

Parenting an infant is the ultimate cock block. Take note you teenage boys that would rather not use a condom. TAKE NOTE!

In all other aspects, however, life as parents to two has been quite enjoyable. Dare I say, lovely?

I dare.

Folks have been asking if life with an infant has been harder this time around, since we have a toddler in the mix. And surprisingly, my answer is, “No, not really.”

It’s more complicated, certainly. We’re juggling twice the number of hungry mouths, active digestive systems, and attention needs as we were when Sunny was born. So, yes, in some ways, it’s more complex and challenging as James and I have double the dependents to attend to. But harder isn’t accurate.

This time we have experience on our side. We don’t fret over every little cry and hiccup. We generally know what to expect from our squeaky baby. When she cries, she’s one of three things: A. hungry, B. wet, or C. over stimulated and tired. The first two are easy to amend. The third can be more of a challenge, but typically a forced swaddle and some rocking to classical music does the trick. We’re abiding by the acronym KISS – Keep It Simple Stupid – and given the state of our minds from sleep deprivation, Stupid is an appropriate descriptor indeed.

With Sunny, James went back to his 50 hour work week within three weeks of her birth, and I was left fending for myself, still used to life without a child in the mix. I’d stress about getting laundry done. Or cleaning the house. Or exercising. Or even just taking some time to myself to read or write. I forgot to enjoy my baby in the ways I am getting to now enjoy Courtland. I was overwhelmed. Worrying about every little development. Looking forward rather than focusing on the present. The time felt interminable. And yet, I now struggle to remember those days with Sunny. It feels like it was a lifetime ago.

This time around, I know to just let it go. If I get to the laundry, great! If not, eh, we’re all pretty stinky in this household these days. Lord knows the dogs don’t care if I go one more day smelling of sour milk. Curling up on the couch with my infant in my lap while reading to my toddler is the most important thing I can be doing with my time. In a flash, it will be over, and I’ll have plenty of idle time to attend to all the things I think about doing (going to the movies, reading a book, writing a novel, knitting bombing the shit out of public sculpture – aren’t these the things we all dream about doing?)

Thanks to experience, I know how very fleeting and precious this time is. I don’t know if I’ll ever get a chance to do it again, so I will not let it pass me by consumed by the stressors of everyday life.

It helps that I have James by my side this time. It helps even more that I live close to supportive friends and family in an unbelievably warm and welcoming community. All of these were things I lacked with Addison.

Addison made me a mom. She was my guinea pig, by my side as I bumbled and stumbled, trying to make sense of this new identity. Now Courtland is teaching me how to really enjoy it. Teaching me that it is okay to not know what the hell I am doing. How to embrace this identity with all of its uncertainties and questions.

I definitely don’t have it all figured out. I still cry. I still have my moments when I just want to sit down and have ten minutes to myself and feel my disappointment building when the time doesn’t present itself. I’ve had this post brewing for four weeks. And yet, today was the first time that the stars aligned and both girls were napping simultaneously and I had the opportunity to just sit down and write. But that’s okay. Because during those four weeks I’ve had some of the most remarkable moments of my life. Being a mom. And loving it.