As the day of Atticus's birth got closer and closer this past spring, I remember feelings of sadness mixed in with the excitement. Of course, I couldn't wait to meet the baby boy, but I also felt sorry that Edith would no longer have my undivided attention. I knew this wasn't the end of the world -- and would probably even be good for her. But, for lack of a better term, it seemed like the end of an era.
Looking back on these last four months, however, it seems that little has changed.
Atticus is so easy going that he demands little besides milk, sleep and a roof over his head. Edith is certainly not lacking for attention. If anything, I feel sorry that Atticus doesn't have more of it.
I've been told that this will change as soon as Atticus is on the move. I've seen a little of this already, since he began rolling over a few weeks ago. I already have to make sure Edith's crayons are far away from tiny baby hands that love to grab things.
But the changes that a baby brings have been gradual and did not result in the instant 180-degree turn that I expected. I don't know Edith's thoughts on the matter, but I know that I already can't imagine our household without Atticus.
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