Lately my eyes have been glued to my daughter. It's like I'm trying to absorb as much of her as I can while she's the only one.
I keep staring at her thinking, "This time next year we'll have two."
Last night as we walked around in the rain holding hands, I couldn't take my eyes off of her. She was so happy barefoot and collecting rocks. The other day as we painted masterpieces for Daddy, I was amazed at every movement she made. And when she discovered 3D chalk and turned circles with those silly green glasses on her face, I was a big ball of mush.
She's at such a fun point in the toddler years (minus the occasional melt-down due to the dreaded word "No."). She can run and talk and figure things out on her own and I am just in awe of her.
And I have to confession, I have a small amount of guilt/panic that we're growing to include another baby. Maybe it's not guilt, but it's something. It's something that has me watching Roo and hoping I don't screw up her childhood. She's been our one and only for so long, that bringing a baby into the equation means the end of a lot of things for her. Co-sleeping, potty training, another human being....
Last night as I struggled to go to sleep, I went into panic mode. What if I royally screw it all up? What if Roo hates me for having another baby? What if I can't handle a three year old and a newborn?