Wow. On December 22nd, (which was almost three weeks after Everett was born, by the by), I wrote the following phrase on our birth announcement post:
"Birth story to follow soon!"
It's now January 30th. Over a month later. Doesn't exactly fall within that whole "soon" window, does it? Everett is almost two months old now. I've yet to tell the tale of his arrival, give you stats on height and weight and developmental milestones, brag about what a good big brother Ethan is, and plaster pictures of my baby boy for all the world to see.
I posted a photo and announced Ethan's birth on THE DAY he was born. That's right, I blogged from the hospital, peeps. Four days later, I wrote his birth story, complete with more pictures. I blogged about all of his "firsts" a week after he was born - his first car ride, first visitors, first bath... you get the idea. By the time Ethan was two months old, I had written eleven blog entries and Ryan had conducted multiple professional photo shoots.
And here I find myself, three years and some change later, two months into holding a tiny snorting newborn in my arms again. And all I've done is posted one picture and made an empty promise.
Mother. Of. The. Year.
I've totally let Everett fall prey to the stereotype of a second child. You could wallpaper the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel with the number of pictures of baby Ethan we have. I have a few great photos of Everett, but they're mostly from my iPhone, as we've not had time to do any "real" photo shoots with him yet.
Ryan tells me to rest assured, that since "all newborns look the same" we can just show Everett's first girlfriend embarrassing pictures of a random newborn we found on a Google image search, and nobody would be the wiser.
Here's where I ask myself the tough questions: Do I love Everett any less than I love Ethan? Absolutely not. Do I enjoy being a mommy to a newborn any less than I did with Ethan? No way - I may even enjoy it more, now that I'm not a trembling, terrified blob of irrational fears. Does the fact that I've neglected my blog mean that I'm neglecting my child(ren)? Not in a million years.
I have a baby, a three-year-old, and a husband who works full-time (as opposed to his full-time grad student status when Ethan was a baby, which meant that he was home a whole lot more). Our household is so busy right now that sometimes it's all I can do to remember to eat lunch. If I had to give myself a grade for my daily accomplishments, I'd have to say that I'm rocking a solid C+ average. Calculated as follows:
1) Baby loving: A+
2) Big brother doting: A+
3) Daily shower opportunities: B-
4) Cooking: C+
5) Cleaning: C
6) Newborn photo ops: D+
7) Blogging: F
If I have to fail in any areas (and those who know me well will know that I consider anything less than an A a failing grade...), I'd rather fail in items 3 - 7. My boys mean the world to me, and if all I have to give right now is zapped after making sure that they're happy and healthy, then so be it.
So, Everett, if you're reading this twenty years from now, please know that you are so very loved. I can't prove it by showing you post after post about your first few glorious months on this planet, but that's only because I was too busy enjoying every minute.
(PS, dear readers - Birth story to follow soon!)