I had no idea what I was getting into having my first child; naïve was commonly used to describe me. But a year in, I felt like I got it, a little internal confidence that you hide from everyone else but puts a spring in your step. So much so that I wanted to have a second child. I mean, going from one to two dogs was pretty straightforward.
I am lucky to say I now have two children. However, I quickly learned that going from one to two children was going from “got it” to “survival.” I honestly don’t know what I envisaged or why I would have thought it would be “more of the same,” a continuation of what I was doing.
Two is challenging, it is fun, but it is tough.
I was quietly confident when pregnant with my second that, of course, I could handle it; I was once again secretly quietly confident. I somehow managed to forget that no two beings are the same, and of course, mine turned out to be two completely different from everything.
Different pregnancies, birth experiences, infants, and, as we enter the toddler zone, different toddlers as well.
I suppose there are some basics that were not easy the second time but easier. Breastfeeding, for one, is not the torturous experience I had the first time around. My birthing experience was also easier the second time.
With my first child, I didn’t have the experience. I was the naïve one, and I had the time to learn as I went along. With two children, there is just no time.
The children have this secret rule when one cries, they both cry.
Honestly, the number of times when one starts and sets the other one off is endless. Which then means you must find a way to be attentive to both at the same time. Impossible, you bend over to pick one up, and the other one wants a cuddle simultaneously. Balancing the two of them and trying to get at least one of them to stop is exhausting.
They always both want attention at the same time. You can be sitting with both off playing, and as soon as one starts heading your direction, suddenly, you get both of them. Then it is one on each knee until they are distracted and off playing again.
And when things go wrong, they go wrong.
Last week literally within 15 minutes, I got two phone calls from the school that both children were coming home with different ailments. Great fun.
We have, of course, had the classic older teacher, so the younger one is learning faster, and everything is so much more accessible for the second.
Truly though, what boggles my mind is that without the teacher and accessibility, just how different they are. My eldest is conservative, cautious, and timid. My youngest is outgoing and a thrill-seeker who wants to throw caution to the wind about everything.
My favorite phrase is; it is just a phase. But now it’s two different phases going on at the same time, eh? How did I not think about that? I just figured it out, and now I am back to square one.
I am a year and a half in with number two, and while I love every day of it, I wonder when it will get easier. How many more years of being the human seesaw do I have?
For anyone reading this with the second on the way, keep reading; there are unforgettable moments.
When it is great, it is phenomenal.
Watching their relationship, watching the youngest copy the elder, watching the elder care for the youngest.
The eldest has taken to sleeping in the crib with “her baby.” It’s my favorite time of day. Listening to the two of them giggling, laughing, and sometimes crying, but they sort it out themselves and invariably in under a minute. It’s incredible, and I feel privileged.
I wouldn’t change it for the world.
To the parents of twins, triplets, or more than two children, absolute profound respect and admiration for all of you
