Easier the Second Time Around
How to blog when sleep deprived? Have caught few catnaps on living room chair with Sweetie Pie draped across my lap... she sleeps the same way Doodles did... touching a human being or not at all... I've had minor success getting her to sleep in the car seat, which she is doing at the moment, so I had better type fast.
Sweetie Pie does differ from Doodles in one major way: she's a screamer. Sweetie Pie has exactly two states of being: asleep and crying. Her cries are significantly louder than Doodles were and they are much more frequent. Because I'm not a paranoid first-time mom, I'm taking this to be a good thing. My daughter is expressing herself and demonstrating her assertiveness. I've got a great little vocal feminist in the making. She's going to let you know exactly where she stands.
Strangely enough, as hard as it is to wrangle two kids and as much as I think I'll move to Australia, it really is so much easier the second time around. As tired as I am, I simply don't care the same way. After all, I know this is temporary. At the most, I have just five more months of no sleep. I can do that for five months. Adam says, "Don't you want to try putting Sweetie Pie in the cosleeper?" and really, I don't, because soon she's going to be this mobile, opinionated little girl who won't just curl into me and look at me as the person who can make all her problems (you know, hunger, dirty diapers) go away. I don't stress over her dirty diapers ("oh my G-d! He peed! Change him, fast! before a rash sets in"); if a baby is happily asleep, I'm not going to disturb her for a little wetness. I only check her to see if she's breathing every ten minutes as opposed to every five. While two kids are harder, the adjustment from one to two really isn't so bad. Going from none to one is such a huge life adjustment; going from one to two, well, we already have all the paraphernalia, we already don't go out anymore, and we already know what to expect.
Of course, I write this right now, today, when Doodles is in day care. Yesterday, when he rebelled in the middle of music class (decided he was "all done music" with twenty minutes left in the class; this is after, of course, he had asked for days, "music class! music class!"), had a meltdown in the library ("play with 'puter!! [meaning computer]), refused to nap, and then had four--count 'em four--time outs in succession for hitting me, I was singing a slightly different tune.
Sweetie Pie does differ from Doodles in one major way: she's a screamer. Sweetie Pie has exactly two states of being: asleep and crying. Her cries are significantly louder than Doodles were and they are much more frequent. Because I'm not a paranoid first-time mom, I'm taking this to be a good thing. My daughter is expressing herself and demonstrating her assertiveness. I've got a great little vocal feminist in the making. She's going to let you know exactly where she stands.
Strangely enough, as hard as it is to wrangle two kids and as much as I think I'll move to Australia, it really is so much easier the second time around. As tired as I am, I simply don't care the same way. After all, I know this is temporary. At the most, I have just five more months of no sleep. I can do that for five months. Adam says, "Don't you want to try putting Sweetie Pie in the cosleeper?" and really, I don't, because soon she's going to be this mobile, opinionated little girl who won't just curl into me and look at me as the person who can make all her problems (you know, hunger, dirty diapers) go away. I don't stress over her dirty diapers ("oh my G-d! He peed! Change him, fast! before a rash sets in"); if a baby is happily asleep, I'm not going to disturb her for a little wetness. I only check her to see if she's breathing every ten minutes as opposed to every five. While two kids are harder, the adjustment from one to two really isn't so bad. Going from none to one is such a huge life adjustment; going from one to two, well, we already have all the paraphernalia, we already don't go out anymore, and we already know what to expect.
Of course, I write this right now, today, when Doodles is in day care. Yesterday, when he rebelled in the middle of music class (decided he was "all done music" with twenty minutes left in the class; this is after, of course, he had asked for days, "music class! music class!"), had a meltdown in the library ("play with 'puter!! [meaning computer]), refused to nap, and then had four--count 'em four--time outs in succession for hitting me, I was singing a slightly different tune.
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