Punkin

Allison and I agreed last night that becoming a mother is possibly the greatest feeling in the whole world...but not necessarily right at first. Not that I didn't love Avery, I just didn't know her. I felt guilty that I didn't immediately have this extreme motherly instinct that I was sure I would have. But it grows. It's uncontrollable. It's positively amazing. This little home invader is the single most incredible person I have ever met, and she can't even talk yet. I am saddened that I will never get to re-experience having a first child. It was great. I can't wait to have more, but I know it will be different. Not that I will love my other child (children?) any less, but the consensus is that you love them differently. Sorry for bursting that bubble for all the second and thirds out there. Evan can attest that how my parents raised me was very different that how they raised him. I was VERY overprotected, he could do whatever he wanted. He never got put on restriction, but he also learned from a lot my mistakes. So I suppose it is a trade off.

I love that he and I are 3 years and one month apart. It is the perfect age difference. We didn't share friends when independence was necessary, but now we do when age doesn't matter so much. We didn't have the same toys, and luckily he wasn't a she, so I didn't have to share clothes. (We all know Evan never could keep up with his own clothes, let alone mine.) Point of all of this rambling is that I want Aves to have siblings, but not yet. Our neighbor's daughter is having her second child in July, on the same day as her first baby was born a year earlier...apparently it's called Irish Twins. My luck we will be the same way. And I would be thrilled to death, but I sure would like to get my body back before we do that again.