It's been 3 months since I've been able to sit down and take advantage of this blog, which I call therapy. Let's see, our house on Citadel sold in late September, we moved into my in-laws right away, and on October 5th, Briggs Wylie decided to make his appearance. I'd say perfect timing. We were moved in for about 2 weeks prior, just enough time to realize the craziness that was about to take place, given the fact that our yet-to-be-finished home was far from it.
So our happy home temporarily sits atop the 2nd floor of the Honeycutt house - just when my in-laws entered the empty-nest after the youngest left for college, here come the Webbs! It's actually a great set up: we're able to have all of our beds in one room, a separate bathroom/changing and vanity area, and a second room for lounging/t.v./2 giant dogs...you know how we roll. We're thankful. It's not an apartment, with rent.
Everyone keeps asking when our home will be finished. Well...damnit. I just don't know. With the set-backs and "on holds" we've had so far, I am afraid to even utter the longest of time frames, for fear that I'll jinx myself YET AGAIN on this process. I just pray that we're in soon. Soon can mean whatever you want it to at this point.
Briggs was born 6 weeks ago this Friday. I can't believe it's been so long. It seems like just yesterday I was afraid - yes AFRAID to leave the hospital in fear that I wouldn't be capable of caring for 2 children. I knew that the feisty, loving, spunky 17 month old BK3 was on the other side of that door...and to be honest with you, I was afraid to go in. He's adjusting as well as any other 1 1/2 year old would. He knows that Briggs is "his baby", but that's about it. I now know that when I can't "hear" or "see" where BK3 is, I get nervous...since 9 times out of 10 he's probably turning Briggs' gentle level 1 swing snooze into a roller coaster ride from hell. Can big brothers cause shaken baby syndrome? When it comes to the bouncy seat...I'm just as terrified. The first week, I would've sworn I'd never survive but slowly - and I mean snail speed - I'm getting the hang of this 2 kid thing. I truly understand what people mean by "the transition from 1 to 2 is the hardest."
As painful as it will be to re-visit, this past Friday was the above all - end all to bad days yet. The clock hits 6:05 a.m., and since I've only gotten about 5 hours of broken sleep, I might as well get the party started. Nicole's teaching for me, and she's got the car for the day so it's just me and the boys. In our temporary home. I woke up to Bk3 walking out of the bedroom. How could he do that? Well, he learned how to open doors of course. Great! I chase after him, to see that he's opened all of the upstairs doors. He's let the dogs join him on the 2nd floor staircase area, and he's hitting Roxie, while she pees in every spot which simultaneously takes a hit. Briggs is loudly reminding me it's time to eat...and oh no, I forgot to put breast pads in...TMI, I know. We FINALLY make it downstairs, after cleaning, changing, etc and BK3 lets loose. His favorite time of day is when he plays the harp on the 32 rubberbands which decorate the kitchen cabinets in an attempt to keep the toddler away. Oh, but he does know how to pry open the pantry door just before the rubber band is at it's farthest stretch, to reach in and grab the oreo's, turn around and say "Cookie!?" No son, we haven't had breakfast yet. After a few more fun episodes/temper tantrums, I resort to locking all three of us in the back family room. There is a TV, Couch, and Toys. All we need to survive and I am comforted in the fact that I won't be running around to save his life. BK3, not Briggs.
Fast Forward to me realizing we're not safe in the back room, since BK3 has learned where the toddler-height accessible ice maker is, he's learned where the lamp outlets are, and oh yes, he's turned his bumble bee wooden push toy into a louisville slugger, with Re's brand new glass paned back doors as the baseball. I say, "Now is a good time to find a new safety spot." We move to the kitchen - where Briggs (the angel that he is) goes to sleep in the bouncy, and BK3 can continue his harp skills. I'm long overdue to send ONE email for work and I sit down in Re's office to do so. I need 3 minutes. Seriously. One minute goes by and I don't hear BK3. Not good. I haul ass out of the office, and into the living room where am drawn upward by the sound of my child's playful voice. He's on his belly, upstairs look out, head between two spindles, and hands hanging on each. "Ma Ma MA!" with the biggest smile on his face. I swear I turned white as a ghost and made it up the stairs in about 4 seconds flat...too bad it looks like he had escaped up there faster than that. After a few "ta ta's" and "no no's" I hoped that I could finish my email. Nope. You'd think I would know to barricade the staircase. Well, with what? My child moves Chairs that I struggle with. I figured it out once he made it BACK up there faster than I could press "send". I was stupid not to think ahead in the first place. 3 feedings, 1 messy toddler lunch, 6 tantrums and about 30 some odd spankings later, I managed to get Briggs to sleep in his swing, and BK3 in a better mood. I resorted upstairs to take a long hot bath before Daddy B got home. I didn't need peace, I just needed cooperation. I had my hot steamy bath and I could relax, regardless of the toy cars that were getting tossed into the bubbles by the tot. Then the unthinkable. I close my eyes for two seconds to imagine sunny beaches, when I hear Bk3's footsteps running back into the bathroom. Before I can reach up to dodge the future, BK3 tosses both dog bowls in with me. Dog food pieces floating around me. Saliva infested water remains too. Ok Carrie, now it's time to just get the F out. MM hmm. I'm pretty sure I've blocked out the rest of the happenings of Friday, because I'm sure I'll laugh out of hysterics and turn into a crazy person. Luckily, I'm laughing as I type this.
Like I said, I'm learning. And I'm getting better at the tasks, record times, etc every day! Briggs is an absolute angel. Aside from not sleeping more than 2 or 3 hours a night, he's perfect. My mother in law says "he's a typical 2nd child - they don't fuss or bother cause they know mama can't really tend to 'em." Well, that's him to a T, but I'm tending a lot :) And although BK3 feels like creating an earthquake wherever he goes, he must know deep down that his mama has a lot of will power too. And just when I'm about to pull my hair out, his hair out, and the 4 dogs, 2 cats, and whatever else is running around's hair out, BK3 leans over to baby Briggs and gives a "MmmmmmmmMaaahhh" sweet kiss to let me know it's all good in the temporary hood.
Thanks for the prayers y'all :)
