Well I'm happy to report that two kids is fine. Better than fine. Great even. I'm not one to wax poetic about the happiness of children, but having two kids is pretty wonderful. Now it may just be that I am on a double upswing of the happiness curve (according to studies parental happiness climbs from birth to six months and again after age 3) and I'm going to come crashing down again in a few weeks, or maybe it's a hormone fueled, sleep deprivation mirage, but for now, I am really enjoying having two.
On the Baby S side, the second time around I am so much more relaxed, that I can really enjoy every little cuddle, coo and funny expression. I'm not obsessed with tracking how often he's nursing, peeing and pooping. I'm not compulsively reading sleep books trying to figure out an optimal sleep routine. And I don't have time to get bored with the monotony of caring for an infant. There is no spinning him around in an office chair 10 times a day in order to improve his spatial reasoning like I did with Baby M. I'm just making funny faces and stealing kisses between playing Thomas the Train and coloring pictures with my 3 year old.
On the Baby M side, I appreciate how far he has come in just 3 years. He can talk and reason, run and climb. All the things I can't do with Baby S yet. And I can't describe the warmth I feel when I see Baby M act lovingly towards Baby S-- bringing him a toy, singing him a song, talking to him about the bunk beds they will share someday. I'm getting glimpses of what I hope will be a strong sibling relationship.
Of course everything is not chocolates and roses. I'm still tired. I don't get enough time with my husband. I spend an inordinate amount of time doing laundry. My three year old whines a lot and seems hell bent on destroying my home. The baby is teething. He doesn't sleep through the night. But at the end of the day I know without question that it's all worth it.
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