No more baby

My second and final baby is officially a baby no more.

This whole year I've been meaning to write about what it's been like going from one child to two and I'm glad it's taken me this long to get my thoughts together.  Had I written this post in the first six months of her life - or even a couple of months ago - it would have been quite different.

When I was pregnant with A, pretty much as soon as I saw those two lines, I started obsessing about what it would be like.  What kind of baby would she be?  How would we all adjust?  What if she was a screamer like her sister - as a newborn - had been?  How would I cope?  I had an absolutely terrible time adjusting to life with one baby, I really hated those first few months and cried all the time, what if that happened again?

I asked everyone with more than one child what their experience had been.  Surprise surprise, everyone had a different story.  My sister helpfully told me that "one is like one, and two is like twenty" and that the adjustment from one to two kids is way harder than the adjustment from none to one.  In hindsight that probably was helpful since she prepared me for the worst but at the time it just sent me into a panic spiral.

J was only 19 months old when A came along.  We were given lots of great advice about how to gently introduce them to each other and to ease the transition for J, and we needed none of it.  J was entranced from the moment she laid eyes on the baby.  She adored her little sister instantly.  So that all went swimmingly.

As it happens, I found the first three to six months - if not an absolute breeze - pretty easy.  I had occasional moments of feeling overwhelmed, but it wasn't the calamitous chaos I'd feared.  Even those first intense weeks where you have no routine and just ricochet through the day didn't faze me.  A cried quite a bit but I knew she was just very small and things would settle down soon.



My main fear and obsession as soon as I knew I was pregnant again was, and continues to be, sleep.  I've written about it before.  A is a really poor sleeper.  This has been the hardest thing, by far, about having a second child.  At first I could put it down to her being too little to sleep well.  Then it went on, and it got really hard, really hard, because she was so grumpy all the time as well.  There were days where she cried ALL DAY.  As did I.

So then we moved to New Zealand because you know, tickets were booked.  It's safe to say that the move did not help A's misery, or her sleep, one bit.  Things got a lot worse, and then it got a bit better.  And then worse again.  And now better.

We've come a long way.

What a joyful member of the family she has become.  Her personality has started to come through and she is pure delight.

No, I don't like babies much.  But boy do I love toddlers.  Chubby kicking legs and throaty chortles and fat hands clapping with glee at every little thing.  Waving vigorously at anyone who comes or goes (including passing cars at the shops).  She laughs with her nose all scrunched up, she dances - and she really gets down with the shoulders shrugging and the hips wiggling.  She imitates us all day long, determined to participate and to learn.  She's talking more all the time: "You want a snack, bubby?"  "Yeah".

As the health nurse said last month "No flies on that one".  No, indeed.

She loves to play with J.  They are each other's best friend.  Especially since A has finally got mobile, oh boy.  The fun they have.  J encourages her: "Crawl to me, bubby!  Come on!  Come over here.  Here she comes!"  J adores her little sister.  She shares generously with A, and only gives her the occasional swipe or push.  Often, if J is upset, she wants a cuddle from A - not from me.  The bond between those two fills me to bursting.  When it's time to get A up from a nap, J runs excitedly down the hall squealing "Bubby!  Bubby's awake!".

It's one thing to love your kids, but then you see them love each other.

And that is a hell of a thing.