Lowell is 2 years, 1 month, and 1 day old. By the time Kendall and Leyna were this age, I was 10-14 weeks pregnant with the next one.
That is to say, this is the first time I’ve been able to experience life with a 2 year old while not incubating another life, sucking on Sour Patch kids, and willing myself to eat mashed potatoes.
I don’t have very many memories of Kendall and Leyna at this age and stage. Probably because I was curled up
on the couch, throwing fruit snacks at them, counting the seconds until nap time so I could hate life in my bed, with my eyes closed.
Lowell seems… younger to me than I thought the other two were by the time I was pregnant with the next. I guess that’s just the way it always goes with the baby.
I’m enjoying him so much, y’all.
Even though he is a total curious jerk sometimes. He pulled the dishwasher open on himself after climbing it yesterday. This was seconds after I removed him from a chair he pushed up to the sink where he began “washing” knives.
He either has way more stamina and determination than the other two did at two years old, or they are really damn lucky to be alive. Remember that time I had the flu when I was 10 weeks pregnant with Lowell?
I can NOT imagine keeping this kid from harm while pregnant right now.
Let alone keeping up with all 3 of them!
But this is enjoyable, chasing them around (notice how all the pictures are of their backs?) while not wanting to vomit.
I love not being pregnant.