Phone it In

Tavy, phone home!
Originally uploaded by wavybrains.

I'm trying desperately not to slide completely off the blogging wagon, but this week is kicking my very-pregnant behind. I'm persevering though:

This is one of my favorite pictures of Tavy. She was a little over two months here, and the rattle is more or less a prop--she could grab things but she didn't really interact with them much yet. Tonight, she saw this same picture on Freak's rotation (he has a widget that scrolls through ALL The pictures) and demanded this phone and her stuffed elephant that featured in other early pictures. I reluctantly handed over the phone and the elephant from a bag of toys that I have saved for Junior. She immediately had a long conversation with the phone, calling Nanny complete with sound effects and pauses for the imaginary reply. It looked so tiny in her huge toddler hand and was dwarfed by her mammoth noggin when she tried to talk on it.

However, she was not convinced that the phone and other baby toys should be reserved for the new baby, and she is currently sleeping with both the phone and the blue elephant. I was struck by how at some point in the last six months my brain has undergone a fundamental shift: I don't see that bag as Tavy's toys anymore. I see it as toys-waiting-for-Junior.

This flummoxes me because how could I see these icons of Tavy's early days as anything OTHER than hers? Somehow without my participation, I've become a mother of two. Nearly all of Junior's "stuff" still resides in the attic, but somehow my mind has already created space for him/her in subtle ways that astound me. The heart expands along with the waistline.

So dear Junior, your father thinks I am nutty for feeling bad that Tavy is sleeping with YOUR things, but just know that I'm carving out a space for you, and I can't wait to get pictures of you with that rattle.

After we wrest it away from Big Sister, of course. She says, "I put it in the baby's tiny hand!" This could go either way: cutest photo ever or world of pain for poor Junior. Or perhaps both.