This post goes out to Hyatt and all you second (or third, or fourth, or fifth children).
When I look back on Hyatt as a little boy, I am going to remember him on his tummy, lifting up his head like a turtle peeking out of his shell.
Hyatt always has this doe-eyed, delighted to-see-you-but-not-sure-what-to-do-about-it expression.
He’s our little rubbernecker, peering out from his high chair, trying to see what’s going on.
See! There he is.
His eyebrows remind me of Bert from Sesame Street. No?
“Oh! Hi Mom. I’ve just been over here by myself in my pack ‘n play.”
Sometimes I look at these pictures and feel bad Hyatt is in lurker mode all the time. While he’s on his blanket making noises to himself waiting for a buddy, I’m off wrangling that other guy. The firstborn.
See? Wrangle wrangle.
Honestly, I want to hold Hyatt at all times, but it’s hard to run and jump with Lincoln while carrying Hyatt. So, sometimes Hyatt has to chill and talk to himself.
I know Hyatt is going to be our little dark horse, though. I know he’s taking it all in and figuring out when it’s time to make his move. Toward the very end of my maternity leave, a week or two before Lincoln’s second birthday, Hyatt staged a coup. He became irate, ran a high fever, and convinced me to call the doctor. The doctor sent us to the ER. The ER doctor said we should plan to stay at the hospital for three nights. Three nights?! Ahem, longer than we stayed when Hyatt was born.
So, Hyatt and I got to have some quality time together.
Quality time. Not exactly party time.
(Everything was fine.)
Lately, Lincoln and Hyatt have been interacting more and more, and Hyatt is starting to army crawl. He won’t have to hang out by himself in the corner much longer. Watch out, world!