The Mighty Angus

There is a little man in my life, who is approximately 2 years & 10 months old, going on 5, of course! Up until 18 weeks ago, he was the centre of my universe. His father's universe. And we (and the rest of the known world) were the centre of his. In his eyes, the latter hasn't changed all that much. But in actual fact he is now sharing all that he knew with another little man. It's enough to cause an atomic meltdown. At times, it has.

The early days were vicious. His dramatic displays of seething envy & utter disgust at us (for bringing this creature into his life) and then often redirected anger at that very creature (who came along and tipped his world on it's head) were something special. When 'the' creature would breast feed, shrieks of "stop kissing boobie Felix" or "don't kiss boobie baby" would fly out of his 2.5 year old mouth. Every. Single. Time. Oh it was tiresome. And don't ask me where he picked that up from, because I simply don't know. Ah, there were many a feed in those first tender weeks with baby Felix that ended in screaming fits. From me. From Scott. From Angus.

Thankfully, time has been our friend and the psychotic sibling rivalry, or jealousy or whatever it might be, has subsided somewhat. In fact nowadays I would almost describe Angus' feelings towards Felix as brotherly. Protective. Even affectionate. There is definite potential there for them to one day gang up on us. Gotta love that. 

Then when I reflect on the Mighty Angus, my first born & the first love of my life (other than Scott of course), I can empathise with his rage and just how hard this transition has been for him. While I was pregnant, each and every day, we would have an afternoon nap together. Anywhere from 1 hour to 3 hours (depending on our exhaustion for the day). I adored those times and know that he did too. I always knew they would be fleeting and that time (and a new babe) would change such moments forever.

Angus no longer has day naps. In fact, since Felix was born, he now sleeps in a big boy bed. Wears big boy undies (with very few accidents). Walks EVERYWHERE, as the pram is for "baby Felix". Some pretty sizeable transitions for a little guy, not yet 3, going on 5, I feel. And I am so proud of him for all of it. 

Now if Mama can just exercise a tad more patience with the daily irrational mood swings, I think we'll be Ok!