This afternoon I watched her, realizing that only for this fleeting, magical time will she dance with her daddy on Sunday afternoons with a tutu and crooked fairy wings. Even the epic tantrum over her toothbrush NOT being pink was treasured and locked away in my memories this weekend. This is the only time we have left to give her all of our attention.

I scooped her up on the couch with her puffy tutu, smelling her unique toddler aroma of baby shampoo and strawberry ice cream. I looked at her and cried. How will I ever love another child like I do this one? I have to wonder if my heart is ready to welcome in more of this overwhelming and humbling love.

These next two months will be sacred for me. I don’t use that term lightly. I don’t know what to expect or what to do, I just know tutu dancing and snuggles will be plenty as I prepare my heart for more.

I’ve been asked, “Amy, you’re 30 weeks pregnant! How do you continue to wear your pre-pregnancy jeans buttoned?”

Simple my friends, simple.

Carry your babies so damn high in your abdomen that they are wedged between your ribs and they kick you in the throat. That’s how.

I felt like Anthony Weiner trying to take this picture.

32 seems like one of those birthdays where it’s just a birthday, you know? It’s not 30. It’s not 35 when you can run for president. It’s not 33, which I’ve always considered significant because that’s how old Jesus was when he died and that’s when my Mom said her metabolism slowed down. Damn. One more year. I better go get  a snack now.

Breakfast the morning of my birthday!

But, when I turned 32 on Saturday I did think of it as significant. 32 is the age I’ll be when I become a mother for the second time. That’s pretty awesome. I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling 32.

“32”, my silly, incomplete and half-assed version of Taylor Swift’s “22”

It feels like a perfect night to dress up like preppies

And make a run to Target, uh uh, uh uh.

It feels like a perfect night for feedings at midnight

To fall in love with babies, uh uh, uh.

Yeah

We’re happy, sad, messy and busy at the same time

It’s miserable and magical.

Oh, yeah

Tonight’s the night when we forget about the deadlines.

Its time.

Uh oh!

I don’t know about you

But I’m feeling 32

Everything will be alright

If you keep me next to you.

You don’t know about me

But I’ll bet you want to

Everything will be alright

If we just keep living like we’re

32, ooh-ooh
32, ooh-ooh

It seems like one of those days,

This playdate’s too crowded.

Too many brat kids, uh uh, uh uh

It seems like one of those days,

We ditch the diaper and end up training

Instead of wiping.

Hello! Are you my male co-worker, father, father-in-law, boy cousin, one of my girlfriends’ husbands, stepdad or grandfather? (Of course you’re not my grandfather. Neither grandfather knows what a blog is nor how to use the Internet.) If you are any others on that list, take a hint and stop reading. Seriously, shoo! Here you go. Not to insult you, but I hear you guys like this. Read it. Go on! You’ve been warned.

Okay, are we all clear?  Good.

Ya’ll, I’m already a lactation sensation at 26 weeks pregnant! I’m not even kidding you. It’s been going on for a few weeks now. Tiny drops here and there. Tonight breast milk came out for real when I squeezed to express a little. I was just curious in the shower as I’ve been feeling it on and off.

I explained to my breastfeeding coworker that I seriously can not see her walking down the hall with her pump without getting that old familiar feeling. I told my mom how itchy and “let downish” I often feel. I was baffled by this as this was NOT the case during my first pregnancy. I wondered if it was just because I know what the feeling is this time?

Regardless it’s bizarre. With my first baby I didn’t see a drop until the nurse in the delivery room explained how to express a little to nurse my baby for the first time. I think my exact words were, “Well, I’ll be damned, there’s milk in there!” I saw the tiny drops of colostrum form and was truly amazed that my body had decided to make food for another human.

Confession. Don’t laugh. I had no idea nipples have lots of little holes. I thought it was just one hole like a cow. Then I thought, “Oh, my God! Do cows have lots of little holes on their nipples, or just one?!” If you are an expert in bovine veterinary medicine, feel free to drop some knowledge on me. Oh, and if you’re like me and didn’t know what colostrum is, skip a step and click here. You’re welcome.

I was thinking about how unbelievably blind I was going into breastfeeding the first time. I knew pretty much nothing and suddenly became a milk making machine. I did what I was told could never be done. I was a full-time working mother who exclusively breastfed for an entire year. I credit this to two things:

1. I didn’t cheap out on the breast pump and got a good one. (My pump was great. I’ve already told my sister to get the even better one than I did.)
2. I just got really freakin’ lucky. I mean, really lucky. (I made a lot of milk and my kid took to it really well.)

I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that it’s showing up so early, but it just made things really real, you know? I know I’m pregnant and I know we’re having another baby, but honestly, I haven’t done much to prepare for this child. Granted, with my first pregnancy I started a blog, dove into message board groups, did copious amounts of stroller research, found the safest non-toxic nursery paint and registered for everything everyone told me I would ever need, ever.

For this baby…uh. Well…we have an empty room with a closet full of infant equipment handed down from his/her big sister.

Those little drops on my boob made me realize I do have a few things I want to accomplish before I bust out the old pump again. ::sigh:: Okay, Baby 2.0. You’ve made it known with your kicks and milk that you are on your way. I promise to be ready for you. Clearly I’ll be ready to greet you with a drink. Cheers!

I’ve been not writing about this for a couple weeks. Finally being able to talk about it makes me so happy! Most of you know I grew up with in a house with one sister. Julie and I are nearly three years apart. Mom asked me one time, “I wonder when Julie and Kevin will have a baby?” I said, “When Charlotte is three.” Mom said, “Why do you say that?” I said, “Because she does everything three years after me.” Mom laughed at my silly generalities.

Before the 4th of July holiday, Julie called me to say she and my brother-in-law were coming to see us in our new house. I said to Greyson, “I was thinking they were going to tell us they’re pregnant, but Julie sounded too perky. She didn’t sound tired enough to be pregnant.” Little did I know, Julie is better at hiding first trimester fatigue and indeed came to announce their big news!

Julie is due January 16. She reminded me these little cousins will be in the same grade in school and just 2 1/2 months apart in age. So fun! I can’t wait to meet my niece or nephew!

As happy as I am, as happy as I am for Julie and Kevin, I’m most happy for Charlotte. Siblings make us who we are and cousins are part of what makes childhood fun.