Double the trouble takes a cuddle break.
In case you are wondering, babies are a huge time suck. I mean that in the most loving, awestruck way, but come on, I’ve been sitting on various rough drafts of this post for three weeks. One thousand words took me three weeks to create, yet in my glory days of college, I’d write a research paper six hours before it was due.
How the mighty have fallen.
But we are slowly, finally moving from the surreal chaos of infancy to the fat, happy baby stage. I’m no longer keeping track of Callum’s age in weeks, his colic is almost under control, and I can successfully put him down for about thirty minutes without him crying (it’s the small victories). Now that I’ve had some time to reflect, here is a glimpse of life with two kids:
1. You already know how to do this...
Mamas and papas, remember when you held your first baby and you had moments (maybe hours or days) where it hit you that you are fully responsible for the life of human being and you were like, “What, me? I’m for real the one in charge now?”
By the time the second baby comes around, you have gotten used to being the one in charge. You have survived your trial by fire. Eventually you realized that babies are more resilient than you thought. Somehow you figured out how to change a diaper without them peeing and pooping on you (well, most of the time). Their frail little arms and legs bent in strange ways and ultimately made it safely into their onesies and sleepers. Against all odds, you safely gave them a real bath even though wet babies about as slippery as a stiletto on ice. You figured out the hungry cry from the tired cry from the bored cry from the pained cry. You’ve got your arsenal of knowledge and tricks fully loaded, so when this new addition tries to throw you for a loop, you say, “Bring it, baby.”
You really think you can handle this guy?
2. ...But, not really.
Come on, you didn’t think it could be that easy. While it may be true that you now know you can do this, how to do this is a whole other game. Your second baby is not the same person as your first. Example: Atticus slept through the night around six weeks, slept mostly in his bassinet, liked being held in my arms instead of a wrap, and had a hard time latching. Callum still isn’t sleeping more than 5 hours, has never slept in the bassinet, loves the ring sling, and latched like a pro from day one. Yes, I have a few tricks for when Callum’s hungry or cranky, but I’ve had to learn more. It’s okay though, because just like with the first, you’ll figure it out...probably.
3. Eventually you have to let someone cry.
It’s not always possible to adequately comfort two kids at once. Someone will eventually have to wait. You might think that it’ll be the oldest who waits all the time, but surprise surprise, that’s not true in this house. If I’m the only one home at bedtime, Callum chills alone while I put Atticus to bed. And by chills, I mean he usually screams because he doesn’t like to be put down. Sometimes I can hear him crying from Atticus’s room and I reeeally want to leave and get him, but if I did that no one would ever sleep in this house. When Atticus is settled, then I get Callum. Not that Atticus hasn’t heard his fair share of “Hold on, I’m feeding/changing/tickling/helping/holding the baby!” I chalk it all up as a continuing lesson on patience.
4. Kids surprise you
Before I stayed at the hospital, Atticus had never stayed away from me, and I was worried he would be a mess without me. Please. He was totally fine. Even when he came to the hospital to see us he was so mature about leaving. When it was time to go he turned around, said, “Bye ma!” and walked away blowing a kiss. It was like he was an 18-year-old skipping along to college and I was the weepy mom missing him before he even left.
I was afraid Atticus would have a hard time adjusting to the baby (I’ll post about how we prepared Atticus for Callum later), but he has been downright remarkable. Knock on wood, he hasn’t shown anything but love and concern for Callum. Atticus asks to hold Callum at least once a day. He rocks him, pats his face, tickles him, covers him with blankets, shares George (Atticus’s loyal stuffed monkey sidekick), and--cutest thing ever--cups Callum’s face in both hands and kisses him. I didn’t know it was possible for a kid to be so sweet to a sibling. I sure as hell wasn’t with my little brother (sorry, Tommy).
5. Grocery shopping is crazy pants
I must look like the most pitiful hot mess when I go grocery shopping. Before me, I push a cart with Atticus in the seat, as he plucks tomatoes, apples, and other produce off of the shelves and eats them like its no biggie. Callum is in his car seat, in the same cart as Atticus, tucked down where the groceries should be, because balancing the car seat in the front is too wobbly. Behind me I am pulling another cart for the groceries, which I throw in with no sense of organization. I usually buy enough so that I don’t have to go out for another two or three weeks (seriously). It might appear that I’m preparing for the apocalypse by stocking up on croissants and applesauce because those are Atticus’s current staples. I alway walk in with a long list and walk out with even more than I intended to purchase, yet I forget to buy something from the list right in front of my face. Even now in the winter, I have yet to go shopping with the both of them and not have someone offer to load my groceries, so I guess thats a plus.
Ready to roll.
6. It takes at least a half an hour to leave the house
And I don’t mean to get ready to leave, I mean actually walk out of the house. Where are my shoes? Who’s got the diaper bag? Are there wipes? Diapers? Snacks? Burp rags? Toys? Do I smell poop? Have the dogs been out? You want a yogurt now? Where’s the car seat? Is your hat on? Do you have George? What am I forgetting? The answer to all of these questions is, “I should have left twenty minutes ago.”
There you have it folks, a glimpse of my life with double the trouble. Parents of singletons, did I scare you? Those with 2 or more, what would you add?
- 9:52 PM
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