For the first 3 weeks of Baby Beck's life, Annika seemed pleased as punch to have him here. She called him "Baby Beck, Mmmuh." The final sound being her puckering up her lips to kiss him.
But week 3 everything changed. At first I couldn't understand why, but then I realized the source. For the first 3 weeks, I was almost never alone. Either Wendell or my mother were here helping, which meant in large part, taking care of Annika.
Once I was on my own, however, Annika was disappointed that she was no longer the center of attention. Or at least frustrated that she had to share my lap.
Her most frequent requests were diaper changes. Every single feeding when I needed to change Beck, Annika would follow me into her room where the diaper change table is and begin begging.
"I poopy," she'd say pulling at her diaper, "I wet."
If I didn't change her right away she'd have a full out tantrum right there on the bedroom floor.
I've done my best to read to her while I nurse Beck, but when I'm trying to get him latched on, I need just a moment before I can read. This has led to a new jealousy.
"Baby Beck eat," Annika observed. "Baby Beck eat Mama's milk. I eat."
There's almost a questioning inflection in her tone, yet it's really not a question, it's a demand. She wants to nurse too.
"No," I tell her, "Annika's a big girl. She eats bologna and cheese and crackers and ice cream. Annika doesn't need Mama's milk."
She'll think about that for a minute then lay her head right by Beck's. "I eat," she suggests again.
I keep reassuring her that she's the big girl and that I can still snuggle her. I read her probably 40 books on an average day, so I really don't think she's lacking attention. But even 8 weeks later, she's not quite used to the fact that she's not the baby any more.