There have been lots of tears around here recently. Both the toddler's and mine. Thankfully Greig doesn't cry much so we have at least one pair of dry eyes to wipe up the excess salty water.Brodie knows things are a changing. He is already having to contend with me no longer being able to interact with him the way he's used to. I can only imagine the thoughts that must be going through his little head. Greig and I often talk about the fact we may or may not expect him to understand more than he's capable of. We fall into the trap of forgetting that he's actually only 29 months old. I am hot, tired and in pain and most days one or both of us has had a meltdown by lunchtime. I'm acutely aware that our days as just the two of us are numbered. A baby is coming next month and as much as our lives will undoubtedly expand to be filled with more than enough love for all, I'm worried about short-changing everyone, my boy, my ever patient husband and myself. I remember with crystal clarity how challenging (teacher speak for bleeping nightmare) the 'newborn' days are. The lack of sleep, the breastfeeding, the relentless yet completely random 'routine', the helplessness and that's just the start. Of course all that contrasts with feelings of overwhelming euphoria and well-being which just adds to that whole 'hit by a truck thing'. Often I can't quite believe we get to have another child, another little miracle, another reason to be better and learn more. I cry when I'm happy, cry when I hurt, cry when I'm sad, cry when I'm worried. Poor Greig. So I have a three-pronged attack planned, it includes chocolate digestives, many cuddles, and writing here to get some perspective when needed. Feel free to leave me some advice, words of wisdom, verbal kicks up the beam end..... Brodie is sleeping peacefully, so I watched him for a little while letting big, fat tears drop onto the sheets beside him.