Second Child

Being a second child in our home is not easy. It doesn’t help that the first child is abundantly social, outgoing, attention demanding, AND starting school.
She’s getting all new clothes and approximately one million pictures taken of her. She’s getting hair bows and nails painted and special attention EVERY DAY to make sure she looks the best she can.
And here’s the sweet, side-lining second child who is NOT abundantly social, does NOT demand attention (as much, anyway) and is NOT outgoing.

It helps immensely that I get about 4 hours alone time with JUST him while the Girl is at school, but that will only last about 20 more weeks (give or take).
My husband and I are making sure to do our best to make sure he doesn’t feel lost or forgotten about. I make a big deal out of our time together. My husband took him out shooting a few days ago -just the boys. My son came home with a bullet burn on his neck (a hot shell landed on his neck). He went on to show his burn to his Primary class and say, “I got this from a BULLET.”

Which is fine. I mean, his sister had just got done telling the entire Junior Primary that she eats dirt.
Classic.
Anyway, we’re doing our best to make the best of it, but his behavior… oh, his behavior! He’s been SO naughty! It doesn’t help that I’m terribly pregnant. I don’t remember EVER being this moody or impatient, and I. want. to. stop! But I can’t seem to. I feel bad for people who have to be around me (except my husband -half his fault).
Yesterday while making apple dumplings for my dad’s birthday dinner, my husband ATE an apple slice and I went into outright hysterics. I had a dream last night that I was throwing chocolate chip cookie dough into the garden rows (cuz that’s normal, right?) and my HUSBAND, without any regard to my dough, started WATERING the garden!
The audacity.
I screamed obscenities at him, threw chocolate cookie dough in his face, and when that ran out… the stainless steel bowl I was holding was launched directly at his face.
This is the kind of crazy subconscious I have to battle every day, dang it. It’s awful hating yourself when yourself really isn’t YOU at all.
How grateful I am for a friend down the road (isn’t everyone in town just “down the road” from each other?) and her daughter that is just my son’s age. Her name is Jaydianna and my son has told me on multiple occasions that he’s going to marry her.
“What are you going to do when you marry her?” I asked him.
“Give her yellow flowers,” he said, matter-of-factly. That’s what marriage is, right? Yellow flowers!
Well, Jaydianna and her mother made some lemon zucchini bread. They had an extra loaf, and Jaydianna’s mom asked who they should give it to.
“Trenton!” she had said. So she did.

He literally TORE into it, as you can plainly see. I thanked Jaydianna’s mom and told her now much it meant to have someone think of JUST Trenton. She went on to tell me that Jaydianna prays for Trenton every night.
“Why do you pray for Trent?” Her mom asked her.
“Because he’s going to marry me,” she said.
Oh, sweet children. Sweet, sweet, children.
They always have a way of reminding us and teaching us. Yesterday was my worst attitude day thus far in this pregnancy, and as my daughter said family prayers before going to bed, she prayed for us each by name -that we could feel the Spirit… because, really: we couldn’t. Not with me around.
How humbling.

Here’s to my Number One Boy -who helped me husk over 5 dozen ears of corn. They’re all safely bagged and frozen now.
Thanks, buddy. We all love you so much.