Not the Baby Anymore

Yesterday was the first day that I forgot the baby. We were all loaded in the car for swimming lessons and I was reversing out of the driveway when I gasped out loud, hit the brakes, and shouted, "We forgot the baby!"

Joey and Clara exploded in giggles while I unbuckled myself and ran inside to retrieve her (asleep in her carseat in the dining room), and they were still shaking with laughter by the time Molly had joined them in the back of the SUV.

"Mommy, did you forget you had a baby??" Joey shouted from the third row. "Did you think she was still in your tummy? Did you think you just had us??"

"Mommy, did you forget baby? Did you think just us??" squealed Clara, because she parrots everything Joey says these days.

"I guess I did," I said. "That was pretty silly! I thought I just had two kids, not three! That's how it used to be, right?" And then for kicks, I added, "Did you like it better then, or do you like it better now, with Molly?"

"Now!" shouted Joey, the baby addict. He's already been asking for a fourth so someone can join him in his "lonely" row.

Meanwhile, Clara, all giggles gone, and looking out the window at her reflection, whispered, "Then."

She's definitely not the baby anymore, and is adjusting to her new role as both big girl and big sister. From the defiant way she says "be-TUS" to her happy "o-TAY," she's vacillating these days between mischief and sweetness, challenging and ridiculously cute at the same time.

With an older brother to idolize and emulate, she can often be found brandishing a pirate sword and eye patch, insisting that her swim attire is "trunks," swinging a bat, and -- most recently -- pushing and shoving her way around with the swagger of a playground bully twice her size.

But when she's around her cousins or other little girlfriends, she's quick to change her tune, even if this means a quick costume change. Channeling Cinderella, she can shed her usual tomboy attire, slip on a flowery dress, grab her magic wand, and put on her favorite "princess" track faster than you can say "bibbity bobbity boo!"

Her first and favorite partner in crime will always be Joey, and their bond seems to be deepening with the addition of a baby who needs to be soothed, fed, and changed by Mommy much of the time. Their games are becoming more elaborate, their inside jokes more hilarious, and their appetite for mischief more voracious. While I'm constantly exasperated by their conniving ways, I love that they have each other, especially now, while Clara adapts to her new middle child status.

When I asked Joey who he played with in childcare at the gym the other day, he looked at me like I had two heads.

"I have Clara. I don't need to play with anyone else. She's my best friend."

The answering look on Clara's face can only be described as smug.