There’s No Two Legs, There’s No Four Arms

Last night, Emma was looking longingly at my lap, my partially used lap through her big sister-colored glasses. Perched there, in all her baby sweetness, was Lily. Emma has been a loving, kind big sister from the time she first saw her baby sister on ultrasound. Granted, she insisted that Lily was a doggy when she first saw her on the screen, but she was very devoted nonetheless. However, there are still moments when she (naturally) wishes for more of mommy. I saw the wheels turning, the wistful look, and then came the sweet two-year-old voice, “There’s no two legs for Emma.” She knows that I will offer to share my lap, giving a leg to each girl, but she didn’t want just part of a lap. She wanted more. One leg didn’t seem to be enough. Fast forward to this morning…I like to think of myself as slightly more mature than my two-year-old, but today I found myself in the same boat. As we were leaving a Toddler Time class and I was beginning to bundle Lily for the arctic temperatures, Emma declared, “I need to use the potty.” This was not said in a nonchalant tone, but more like what you would hear in an action movie: “You have ten seconds, mommy, act fast.” I tore off Lily’s outerwear, grabbed Emma, and raced for the nearest public restroom. Frantically, I used my one free hand (the other arm was holding baby Lily) to tear off toilet paper to place on the toilet. Cleanliness and parenting do not always go hand in hand, but I haven’t given up yet…lowered my standards, but not given up completely. With my free arm, I helped Emma lower her jeans, hoisted her onto the now “safe” potty, and let her do her thing while Lily got a close up view of the whole scene. Now it is my fear that Emma, still being small, will fall into the toilet and all of our hard earned potty training work a few months ago will go down the drain. An irrational fear? No, it happened to me as a kid and still gives my otherwise humane older brother a good chuckle. Anyway, I am desperately trying to keep her on the toilet paper, out of the toilet water, and feeling safe and secure…while making sure her baby sister doesn’t touch anything, topple over, or realize that it’s been too many hours since she was last fed. And I found myself thinking, “I want more. Two arms just don’t seem to be enough.” Thankfully, in between the sound of the flushing toilet and the cries of a hungry baby, I realized how blessed I am to have two arms full of children and a lap that is almost overflowing with love. I guess it’s how you look at it…no two legs, no four arms…but just the right amount of being needed by two girls who I am lucky enough to hold.