Normal. The glimmer of it widened, broadened into a sunny porthole, and finally enveloped us into its light. We’re normal. We’ve hit three months and the “fourth trimester” is over. I’ve learned, or remembered, that she wants a nap after being awake for 1.5 hours. I’ve learned or remembered that the best naps come after crying in the crib for a minute or two when she’s just tired enough, and the shortest naps come after being nursed to sleep. Her digestion has hit a stride and she doesn’t notice what I eat or drink anymore. After lots of setting down and picking back up, setting down and picking back up, day after day, Joan doesn’t take it as an insult to lie on the floor next to Lux and me while we read and play. In fact, she seems to enjoy it now. What a good baby, people gush. Slowly slowly, I think to myself. And she does smile like a loony bin almost all the time now, which makes me happy to no end and even Lux has started noticing how pleasant a creature this baby is. “Is Joan your little sister?” people ask Lux. “Joan Bea” Lux says, looking like she’s been put on God’s solemn earth to correct these uneducated louts.
She still has a cry in the carseat that makes my heart leap into my throat and makes Joe want to break something, but I’m sure that’s going to fade as soon as she can chew on a toy with gusto. And she does this thing where, whenever she hears Joe or Lux talking nearby, she practically falls out of my arms trying to look at them. It’s unbelievably sweet.
And finally, possibly most importantly, I settled into a mother-of-two state of being: not all needs will be satisfied all the time. But, both of them will get what they need, as my friend Lena told me in the first few weeks of two-hood, most of the time.