At Arm's Length

I am basically a big believer in instincts. I'm a bit more wary on valuing emotions too high (my emotions have been VERY sure about some VERY dumb things) - but instinct; that I find trustworthy (even when I REALLY wanted to be sure of those aforementioned things, I had a mountain of instinctual doubt about it)

I think that Abby and I are just as we should be. This is not my favorite age of kids - well - it is and it isn't. It's my favorite age of Abby's because it's her right now and she's my favorite person and always will be (the same goes for all the kids - definition of the word favorite be damned). There is such a sweetness still and youth and all that. But there is a lot of doing innocent things that disrupt; disrupt only because the rest of the house is in 2/3 year old mode. I would say that is the biggest disadvantage to having kids farther apart. You have to swing so far dealing with one child vs. the other. She has such different needs naturally of course from the boys, and that is magnified by the age difference.

So we worry that she might feel overlooked, overshadowed - that she'll resent having to be quiet for naps and having to be independent at bedtime because we're doing something radically different for the boys bedtimes.

I also worry that I treat the boys like the littles that they are. They get hugged and cuddled constantly. Abby appreciates affection as well, but it's different and I think it should be.

BUT because of the other worries, I worry. Ha.

You know, if it was just her, and this is how our relationship and affection progressed then I wouldn't be worried about it. It makes sense how independent she is and I have always been proud of her crazy extravertiness. I would look over at her and give her a hug, but just know that she's all about learning and new friends and social EVERYTHING and crafts and the next fun thing. I wouldn't worry that we don't have the same intensely codependent relationship we once had when she was a little.

But, because I do have the other two little monkeys who's whole existence is anchored by the expression on my face and who I manage as if the wrong misstep could make our house crumble to it's foundation... The contrast is simply worrisome sometimes.

So I try to look in her eyes instead of constantly be moving when she's talking and take time out with her even if we're not talking and so on and so forth. My instinct says we're in the right place but I can't shake the instinct on the other side of the spectrum that says she's getting a raw deal. That all three of them, at different parts of the day, are.