I thought
my life was crazy with just a 3 year old and then it happened, a newborn. Life is different
after your first kid but it is flipped upside down with your second.
You wake up in the morning (who am I kidding, should I
really count those 3 hours of sleep?), attempt to feed the baby, who is quite
an angry little man at 6 a.m. You are careful not to wake the sleeping 3-year-old
who crawled into my bed at 2 a.m. because if brother sleeps in your room she
thinks she should too. On a good day you are lucky to get the baby back down
around 7:30 and either enjoy that much needed cup of coffee in solace or
attempt to get 30 minutes of sleep before the toddler wakes up screaming
because you have left her alone. Yes, my independent 3-year-old has somehow
back-tracked and is instant upon ALWAYS being in the same room/within eyesight
of you.
Once you have spent an hour arguing with said three-year-old
about which outfit she should wear (she ends up in the same Elsa dress she wore
yesterday) and that yes she does have to brush her teeth and no she can’t have
a brownie for breakfast that beautiful baby starts screaming in the swing in
the corner. Navigating the kitchen with only one arm and baby in the other is a
masterful art but you somehow manage to efficiently get the toddler breakfast,
empty the dishwasher, and put on another pot of coffee.
It looks like there has been a small explosion under my daughter’s
chair, as half of the cereal ended up on the floor and
thankfully the dog is there waiting to do the job you really don’t have time to
do. The baby is sleeping so now you tiptoe upstairs with toddler and computer
to build a castle out of blocks (never as good as daddy’s) while simultaneously
attempting homework
Screaming, the baby is awake yet again and it is way past
lunch time. Swoop up screaming child, grab out a Lunchable for the toddler,
call dog over to clean up the mess. You look down to see the baby has not only
puked on your shirt but there is brown residue sliding down
his legs and on to you. Crap, literal crap is seeping through your shirt, but
you pat yourself on the back for deciding to not get dressed today and be
thankful it was only an old pajama shirt stained with poop. Your inquisitive
toddler runs over to investigate and now all three of you are marked. Two baths
later and fresh clothes for everyone you meander back downstairs to stare
blankly into the fridge and ponder dinner. Just when you have given up and
decided on cereal you hear that magic noise, daddy’s home… you breathe a sigh
of relief and proceed to word vomit your long day all over him the minute he
walks through the door. You have a
second set of hands to help wrangle the toddler. Prepare dinner and get the
kids ready for bed so that you can possibly, if you don’t pass out somewhere, accomplish
a homework assignment or get a full load of poop and puke stained laundry done.
This is a very accurate description of going from 1 to 2!
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