Sienna is three months old and I was cleaning my house like I my mother was coming to visit, the dog was following me around, and everything I smelled or ate seemed “off”. Even Al thought something was up.
I peed on many a stick after receiving an inconclusive response to finally arrive at the result I desired: not pregnant. Note: staring un-blinkingly at the pregnancy test stick as hard as you can and squinting will not alter the result of the test. I think this should be written in the too long series of instructions telling you how exactly to pee.
It all made me think about Sienna’s life if I were.
I’m daunted by the ever famous middle-child syndrome even though I’m the one who got to initiate my parents into parenthood. I’ve always planned on 4 kids, the rational being that the two stuck in the middle could commiserate.
But I must have been feeling insightful yesterday because it occurred to me that Sienna could in fact be the luckiest of babies.
She won’t have to fight as hard for what she wants, nor will she be suffocated by a smothering mom who is mourning that her child rearing years are zooming to an end. She gets to be a little sister and a big sister. She gets it all, and that made me blissfully happy for her.