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Archive for June, 2013

So, we had another child.  Yes!  Seven months ago, in fact.  A boy human named Hugo came into the world, altering it with his presence, displacing air, producing love, consuming milk, erasing sleep, soiling laundry, creating a sibling of Miles, and generally blowing our minds.

Hugo at four weeks.

Hugo at four weeks.

But we haven’t been blogging about it.  Why?  Because two kids is a lot of work.  Two kids is crazy.  Two kids is what-were-we-thinking-and-this-is-so-awesome-and-please-can-I-sleep-soon.  Two kids multiplies the love and the work and the laundry and the dishes and the feces even as it subtracts sleep, money, patience and memory.

Love, multiplied.

Love, multiplied.

When people ask if the second baby really is easier, I say “Yes!”  The second baby is absolutely easier.  I’m calmer and more relaxed in Hugo’s babyhood than I was in Miles’s.  I’m not as worried about messing up. Some of the logistics are familiar.  Swaddling, diapering, bathing — none of these intimidate me any more.  I know how to soothe a newborn and that sometimes the soothing just won’t work.  Now that Hugo is crawling and cruising and busting his head on the furniture, I know he probably isn’t going to get a concussion falling from his own height.  I’m not as worried about his sleep, which incidentally is going okay enough.  I carry less in the diaper bag, as my mother-in-law kept telling me to do.

But two kids is absolutely, definitely, ridiculously harder.  The sheer amount of work is greater, and I spend a lot of time rushing about trying to make our life smoother and better.  I feel crushed by the clutter.  I long for a dishwasher.  We visit the pediatrician practically once a week.  And also, perhaps because this is the second time, I keep thinking we should be doing even better than we are, that we should be getting some of our pre-baby mojo back.  I keep thinking we should be drinking out of glass glasses and going to concerts in the park and, you know, exercising.  Which we are not.

However, as great as the work is, the love is wildly, unimaginably greater.  First there’s Hugo, a whole new person to love.  And then there’s the two boys together.  When Miles and Hugo play together, when they smile at each other, I explode somewhere inside, in my guts.  I creep into the tiny room where both of them sleep sometimes to feel their breath lapping wavelike against the walls.   And there’s our new family, with its fourness.  Our family breakfast of chaos and costume changes and clattering spoons against the floor.

Second baby easier.  Two kids harder.  Family of four? Awesome.

Yikes!

Yikes!

 

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