Cake AND Ice Cream. Ohhhh yeah.

A few weeks ago I started to panic about Kostyn not being ready for a little brother. I decided he needed to learn how to sleep better, and fall asleep faster, and walk to the car instead of being carried, and a handful of other “It’s time to grow up right now because soon I won’t be able to spend as much time doing these things with you” tasks.

Poor kid didn’t know what hit him.

I set about trying to “train” him on certain things, and the results, of course, were mixed. This led me to second-guess myself on all the things I’ve been doing with him and for him right along, and made me further doubt my ability to juggle two when the time comes. Because how can I sit next to Kostyn’s bed for 10-15 minutes until he falls asleep for a nap every day if Evan is crying and needs to nurse? And how can I hold Kostyn’s hand and let him walk to the car while juggling a baby in a very heavy car seat, a diaper bag and my keys....if Kostyn throws a fit every time we make it to the car because he wants to walk down the street instead of get in the car? (Walking is his favorite pastime these days. Or as he says it, “Gawk?” while holding up his hand to me. He loves walking. We walk up and down the street, we walk around and around the dining room table at least 50 times a day, we walk through every mall in town. Loves. To. Walk.)

Anyway, the panic mode lasted a good two weeks, until I entered another phase in this schizophrenic final trimester. This phase is the “I can’t believe in just a few weeks Kostyn and I won’t have the kind of time and bond and relationship that we share now, because somebody ELSE will be here needing me, taking time away from all the blocks-building and Play-Doh playing and books reading we currently do.”

Poor Evan. The kid gets a bad rap in my f’ed-up head sometimes.

It’s not that I’m not excited to meet Evan. On the contrary, I’m eager for him to join our family — complete our family — and I cannot wait to see the two boys interacting. I know it will melt my heart over and over. But right now all I know is Kostyn, and it’s hard sometimes to just KNOW that not only will Evan fit perfectly into our lives, but that Kostyn will be just fine as well.

So I stopped all training, and just started enjoying every beautiful, drawn-out “We can take as long as you want to put on your shoes today Kostyn because nobody else needs me” moment. Admittedly, the freedom to do pretty much whatever Kostyn and I want to do at any given moment has been really nice.....and that, in turn, has made me even sadder about how our lives will change very, very soon. (I know, I know, I’m a nightmare.)


I was reiterating these feelings to Chris the other night, telling him how part of me is feeling melancholy because all this one-on-one time with Kostyn is going to end. And Chris looked at me and said, “I think it’s like cake and ice cream.”

I cocked one eyebrow and waited for more.

“Say you have your favorite kind of cake, and that’s all you know, and it’s fine because it’s freakin’ cake, right? You love it," he said. "And then someone tells you they’re going to give you another kind of dessert, to go with the cake, and you’re excited because, ya know, two desserts! But the more you think about it the more uncertain you are, because you love the cake so much. I mean, what could be better? You don’t want to spoil your appetite for the cake....”

“Until the day your plate has both cake AND ice cream on it, for the first time. And it’s just this perfect combination of two equally awesome things, and you never believed one plate of food could be even better than it was, until it was. And it’s not like you love one more than the other, they’re just both great. And suddenly you can’t imagine how you went so long having cake without ice cream.”

I smiled at him and he smiled at me and I said, “That’s. .... really smart. And I love that you put it into terms I can totally understand.” He has a way with words, doesn’t he?

Also, is anyone else hungry?