A year ago Sunday.
It’s quite a punch to the gut to realize that I haven’t given her her own blog in quite some time. I don’t need to remind you of my excuse list, but nevertheless, I’ve been failing my little Quinn. I hate it. The truth is, she is such a doll and my most favorite second child ever. She keeps me on my toes and laughing all day long. She is needy and clingy and talkative. She is feisty and happy and curious. She is smart and clever and mischievous. She loves her big sister and her big brothers. She is outgrowing every piece of clothing she has, and if she doesn’t stop, we will enter the Spring season completely naked. She uses her potty frequently and always expects toilet paper to throw in it and a high five afterwards. She will stop and play in any droplet of water she sees. She eats… and eats and eats. She cannot be without her blankets. A stack of books will keep her occupied longer than most anything else. Mickey Mouse is her jam. This is the Day that the Lord has Made is her favorite song. Outside is the best. She knows her body parts from head to toe. She says: daddy, papa, nana, Samson, Duncan, bye-bye, shoes, ball, diaper, no, mmm hmm, and bubble. Leah is her hero. She is my happy place in a dreary day. She hates clothes and loves frog slippers. She has all of her teeth. She still needs me at night sometimes. She loves to throw trash away. She loves to be chased. Giggles are plenty in a day. She barks like a dog and sniffs like a bunny. She tells me bye and waves when I put her down for a nap. She always makes sure the dogs get a milk bone (or 10). She loves to color. She loves to jump on the bed(s). She loves peek-a-boo.
That’s the rundown for you. That’s our Quinn at 16 months and 2 days.
But what I really need to say isn’t as easy to put into words. I just kind of freaking love her. A lot. And life is really, really good with her here. And sometimes she makes me want to say no way to more babies because I think we have it too perfect and what if the next one sucked? And to watch her with Leah does something to my insides that no fancy words could describe. She gets away with more than she should and I don’t even care, because she’s my Quinnie. And my goodness have I learned that they grow up too fast.
I think if I were to give advice to any new parent it would be to hurry up and have the second. Not taking away anything from Leah, because I also happen to freaking love her a lot, but there’s just something so very sweet about the second. I think it has to do with the calm that comes from ‘been there done that,’ but it’s just so much more rewarding. Or it has been for me.
It’s funny what I have done differently this time around. For instance, we put Leah in a toddler bed at 18m. I look at Quinn at 16m and think… no way, no how am I taking her crib apart. Maybe I rushed Leah, maybe she was ready, or maybe I just can’t let go of Quinn being a baby, but it’s just not going to happen in the next two months. Where I always thought Leah seemed older than she was, I now find myself constantly thinking Quinn is younger than what she is. To me, she still seems like that sweet little baby who had just turned 4 months old. I have no idea who that pretty little thing walking around wearing jeans is. The pictures just look so foreign to me when I see her looking so grown up, or when she talks, which is happening more and more. She can answer a question and speak for herself now, and it’s just not right. “Quinn, we need to put your clothes on,” and she shakes her head no and laughs. “Quinn, do you wanna jump on my bed,” “mmm hmmm” and she runs to the steps with her big sister and up they go. And I’m just left in the dust wondering what in the world is happening.
But as much as I complain about her baby-ness disappearing, we are kind of at a sweet spot right now. A really sweet spot. In a lot of ways. I mean, these girls really seem to enjoy each other for the most part, and it’s so awesome. Leah must learn to be more careful, but other than that, I have very few complaints. Right now, Leah is taking on a majority of the potty training and I’m certainly not complaining. She loves to ask her if she wants to go potty.. and then strip her down. She can get them both snacks, read books, fetch blankets, and turn on the TV (can I get an AMEN). I can get things done around the house and listen to giggles or sweet little conversations as I work – and it is music to my ears. I catch glimpses of them and see them when they’re in high school or even older and what a sweet picture it is.
I’m so thankful that Quinn was painted into our family. She just fills the spot I didn’t know we had. And try as I might, she will get the short end of the stick more often than not, but that certainly doesn’t mean I don’t sit back and marvel at everything that she does. She’s growing up so wonderfully and I love every inch of her to the moon and back.