Meet Margaret, my former neighbor and a mama friend who was the first to welcome us to our neighborhood when we moved to Washington, DC. We immediately connected over our children being only a week apart and our similar philosophies for parenting. I have always admired her candid "say it how it is (or at least how you see it)" attitude and her witty sense of humour and am so blessed for having such a caring friend, with whom I have had much in common, on our short stint in DC. And all the more blessed for staying connected! You may have seen her in many of the past blog posts while in DC.
Now with her second child, she was going to write me some words of wisdom and advice, but as she explains, she chooses not to:
When Stephanie first asked me to do a
guest blog post about having two under two, my immediate reaction was “I have
no idea what I’m doing and no one will want to read about the kind of daily confusion
and chaos I experience.” Then it occurred to me that: 1) The best blogs are
those that are real and don’t make you feel like you’re the only one messing up
on a daily basis, and 2) Schadenfreude, hearing the plight of others, makes the
most pathetic blog posts some of the most enjoyable to read.
I had originally planned to write this
post about practical, everyday advice for having two under two. But when I sat
down to write it, I realized that what works for me won’t necessarily work for
other people, so giving tips on how to handle two under two seemed a bit silly.
The experience of bringing a new baby into a household with a toddler is going
to be different for everyone. In my case, I had my “challenging” baby, Corinne,
first, and her first year of life was incredibly difficult for me. Corinne had
colic, which morphed into what can only be described as general crankiness
until about 14 months. Meanwhile, whether because of Corinne’s temperament or
because of the shock of transitioning to parenthood, I suffered from
post-partum depression for a decent chunk of that first year. Corinne is now a
happy, spirited, articulate, delightful 23-month-old who bears little
resemblance to that unhappy baby.
But when my husband and I decided to try
for number two, it was with some trepidation and resignation to the assumption
that we could well have a second challenging baby and the first year would be
extremely hard again. But in his 3 months, our second, Will has proven to be a
laid-back, chill dude who goes with the flow in a way my daughter never did. He
is generous with his smiles and giggles and delights in chatting with anyone
who will talk to him. It has been amazing to see how wonderfully and amazingly
different the two of them are.
I also have not suffered from
post-partum depression with Will, which makes the infant period so much easier.
It’s hard to say how much of that is dumb luck, versus having an easier baby,
versus already having accepted that my life, for now anyway, is devoted almost
entirely to caring for small children (something that was not an easy
adjustment for me).
So, emotionally, I have found it easier
to have two children. But despite having a fairly easy-going second baby, I’d
be lying through my teeth if I said it was easy. For me, anyway, there isn’t
much about parenthood that it is easy. It is without question the hardest and
the best thing I have ever done in my life. And yes, there are days when taking
care of my kids is the last thing in the world I want to do.
For the first couple of months after
Will was born, I made it out of the house a fair amount, but I kept thinking
that I wasn’t doing things “right,” that there must be more efficient systems
and ways of handling life with two small children. Surely having to put Will in
the baby wrap just to get out to the car while dragging a toddler behind me was
just a makeshift solution. Surely feeding Will in one arm while holding Corinne
in the other and propping a book up on my leg to read out loud to Corinne was
just a temporary inconvenience and I would figure out how to juggle everything
better. Surely there was a better way to put Corinne to bed than sticking Will
on the floor on a burp cloth in her room, praying that he didn’t cry, while I
changed her diaper, read a story, and sang to her. Surely there was a better
way to handle nap-time than sticking Will in the Moby wrap to ensure he slept
while Corinne conked out upstairs and I finally, sort of, could get some work
done.
Surely I would figure out how to do all these things the right way.
Surely I would figure out how to do all these things the right way.
Then one day I realized that while I’ve
been waiting to become that mom who was doing everything “right,” what it
boiled down to was the fact that I WAS doing it – I was making it to music
class, I was going to story hour, I was getting both kids bathed, fed, and
played with every day. It wasn’t always pretty, but it was getting done, and
mostly successfully.
I’m definitely grading on a curve here,
of course – the days when we only have one simultaneous meltdown are definitely
better than the days with three, and if I’m still functional enough to hold a
conversation with my husband after the kids go to bed, I consider the day a
roaring success.
The days when Will won’t nap and Corinne
is teething aren’t awesome. The days (yes, plural) when Will has a massive
diaper blowout requiring a bath just when I am trying to get Corinne her
much-needed lunch and nap aren’t much fun either. I often feel like there just
aren’t enough minutes in the day or enough mama to go around.
But then for every meltdown and diaper
blowout I cannot prevent, there are the glimpses of sibling love that remind me
why I wanted to have two children in the first place. The moments when Corinne
asks me if she can “hold” and “pet” Baby Will. The moments when she hears him
crying and runs to get him her pacifier and favorite stuffed animal because
they make her feel better when she’s sad. The moments when I am walking Will
around the kitchen in circles patting his back to try to calm him with Corinne
marching behind me solemnly holding her baby doll over her shoulder and patting
its back. There are toddler hugs, baby giggles, cuddles, smiles, and so much
more.
It's these moments that remind me that it’s all about balance and taking each moment, hour, and day as they come. Not every minute will be good and not every minute will be bad. But every day I get more and more glimpses of what the future will hold with what I hope will be a brother and sister who can learn to love, laugh, and play together for decades to come. That is why I embarked on this journey in the first place, and I can’t think of anything I’d rather be doing than watching these two amazing little people grow.
You might also like:
- A Picnic in the Buttercups.
- Just a Little Icecream Date, no Biggie.
- A Date with the Butterflies.
- Playdates and a Recipe or Four.
- I'm a Baby Pirate of Tender Years.
- Girls' Night Out.
