This past weekend was a banner one. As we had wanted to transfer Spencer from the crib into his new big boy room and big boy bed well in advance of the baby's arrival, the move happened this weekend and (touch wood) has gone remarkably smoothly thus far.

Spencer has had no problem either going to bed or sleeping through the night in his new bed, and he seems very happy in his new room. The nursery, on the other hand, looks a bit forlorn and empty right now as it awaits the few final steps (washing bedding, rearranging a few things, etc.) that need to be completed to make it ready for its new inhabitant.

(An added bonus of Spencer now sleeping in the big boy bed -- my back and ligament pain has significantly decreased over the past few days, which I'm attributing to my no longer needing to lift Spencer in and out of the crib.)

Seeing Spencer in his new big boy room has made me realize how fast he is growing up and has me a bit nostalgic for all of the one-on-one time that we presently enjoy with him that is drawing to a close. Don't get me wrong -- I am so excited about the arrival of our little girl and can't wait to meet her. But I know that, once she is home with us, the undivided attention and time that Spencer receives from us now will be, while not forever gone, definitely forever changed, especially in the beginning. It will be replaced by other equally wonderful emotions that I know I can't even imagine at this point in time, but right now my main feeling about this change is a bit of sadness, mixed with a teeny bit of guilt.

Andrew and I have involved Spencer in this pregnancy from the very beginning. He was the first person that we told, we've brought him to a couple of doctor's appointments (although he's more interested in the toys that the doctor has in her office than the photos of the baby on the ultrasound), we've told him the baby's name now that we know it's a girl, he and I have read to the baby together, and he has felt her kick. Spencer knows that there is a baby in Mommy's tummy, and he'll periodically lift up my shirt, pull down the kangaroo pouch on whatever I'm wearing on the bottom, and ask to see the baby. He seems to understand that, when the baby arrives, she is going to sleep in the crib, use the changing table, and play with the baby toys and books that are in the nursery. He'll point to the crib and say "[Baby's name] going to sleep there?," point to the books and say "[Baby's name] read those books?," and he'll also ask "Where's [Baby's name]?"

But while Spencer can say all of these things, I wonder how much does he really understand? And, to be fair, how much can we expect him to understand? How can a two-and-a-half-year-old truly grasp the fact that this baby is not only going to sleep and play in the nursery, but that she is going to be a part of our lives forever? I've had more than one friend tell me that the honeymoon between their first child and second child came to an abrupt end after the second child came home from the hospital and the first child realized that the new baby was not going to be leaving/returned to the hospital/going back from whence it came.

Turning the focus from Child #1 to Child #2, as of our appointment last week, the baby is now head down -- hopefully she'll stay that way -- and I'm carrying her fairly low, which was the case with Spencer, too. She's also big enough that we're already starting to run into conflict over her position. She will periodically end up with an elbow or a knee sticking up against my stomach, and this for some reason gives me the willies, so I do the mean thing of push her a little bit to get her to change her position.

The baby is not so big yet, however, that her movements are uncomfortable, which is fortunate, since she is still very active. In fact, I think she might be more active than Spencer was, which is saying something, as he was also very active. Fortunately, I love watching and feeling her move.

One night last week I was lying in bed reading, and, having settled herself for the night, the baby had been quiet for a few minutes, when Andrew came in and started talking to me. And right away, she started moving again, almost as if to say "Hey, Dad! Here I am -- over here!"

We went to a barbecue earlier this week at a friend's house, and there was a woman there with a seven-week-old baby boy, and I found myself just staring at him, fascinated. Spencer is growing up so fast and doing so much that it's hard for me to remember when he was a little tiny newborn cuddled up against us in the Baby Bjorn with his soft, silky, floppy little head at just the right height for us to kiss it. In a bit more than two months, we'll have a newborn of our own. And it won't be too long thereafter I'm sure before we'll hear Spencer asking:

"When is [Baby's name] leaving?"


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