Holy wow: two kids isn’t twice as much work; it’s work squared. We are settling into routines again, but Joey has started waking up most nights, extremely upset—hard to know whether it’s because of bad dreams or baby stress or both. During the day, Joey is jealous of attention paid to Kit, but also fascinated by him: he wants to hold the baby; he helps during diaper changes; he joins in when I’m burping the baby; he will just grin at his brother, or start helpfully pointing out his features. After seeing me put a blanket over a napping Kit, Joey ran over with his recently removed pajamas (“Cold! Kit!”) and tried to put them on the baby. He’s really very sweet, my Joey boy.

Kit is very different from Joey; I hadn’t been expecting to be able to tell so early. Kit is very strong, seemingly born able to hold up his head, and is already apparently as close to crawling as Joey was at five months old—placed on his stomach, he will get his knees under him and claw at the carpet determinedly. He is fierce and aware, throwing himself purposefully in one direction or another (and scaring his mother), and he’s starting to trust that we will feed him when he’s hungry, which means that life is getting a little easier. I’ve heard of babies who sleep for the first two weeks, but I’ve never met one—Kit wanted to eat constantly, and would become immediately enraged when he realized that he was hungry. Now he’s willing to just let me know that he’s hungry without the screaming, which is nice. He’s still eating constantly, though—he put on a pound in a week—so my day goes something like nurse for an hour, off for two hours, nurse for an hour, off for an hour, nurse for forty minutes, off for half an hour, nurse for an hour. . . . I’m getting very little done, and that’s with my lovely husband getting up with Joey every morning. But everyone has clean clothes and gets regular meals, so I’m calling it good.

No news on my oldest, and I’m too tired to keep pushing right now. Maybe in the fall I’ll reach out again, send Ruth an email and Cricket a card—but for the summer, I think I’ll just let the silence be. I’ve sent messages, she’s clearly not in a space to write back right now, and I’ve really got other things to do than keep talking into silence. Mr. Book sent Cricket a card last week, I’ll send one in September or October, and then we’ll see; certainly we’ll send gifts in December, and surely we won’t see them again this year. Joey just outgrew all his shoes after four months, and Kit is going through diapers like a house on fire—I can live in these details for right now.


Apparently all I needed to do was update the blog: my Possum was born Saturday morning at 6 a.m., after two hours of labor. I dare not have another baby, lest I do so in under an hour and simply explode.

I think I’m going to call him Kit on the blog, like a baby fox, since the nurse who caught him announced that he is a redhead (time will tell!); he was 9 pounds 12 ounces at birth, and is managing the dubious trick of appearing simultaneously tiny and gigantic.

More posting very soon, just as soon as I stop walking into walls.


Sorry to drop off the face of the earth for so long, and thanks for asking after me—I am, in fact, still pregnant—the most pregnant I’ve ever been. Today is my due date, I am gigantic, but the Possum seems fine and I’m feeling surprisingly patient about the whole thing. My sister Kate came to visit, hoping to see the birth, but she’s leaving tomorrow morning and I am still just having prelabor. My father’s also leaving town, going to Ireland for most of the summer, and they’d both very much like to meet Tiny when he arrives. Ah, well.


It’s hard to explain why I’ve been gone; I’m tired, of course, but I’ve been tired before. The only adoption news is that Ruth and Nora are now a year behind on sending pictures as per our open adoption agreement, and they’ve stopped liking pictures of Joey on Facebook (I know how dumb that sounds, but we tend to like pictures of the boys that the others post, and they have stopped). Radio silence. It doesn’t seem like the right time to push, since we’re about to be pretty busy, but I have enough time to notice and be discouraged.


I’ll try to update promptly once our Possum arrives—the OB seems content to let us wait at least another week without a fight, which is a relief, so it could be a week or two. Or perhaps I’ll give birth while my family is on the way to the airport. Who can say?