Since the birth of my second babylove, I’ve been bombarded with all sorts of motherhood questions. Nobody asked me shit when it was just me and Mykah (which is fine, I didn’t know shit), but apparently, having two babies makes you a pro. I still don’t know anything, but now I have a toddler swatting at my Starbucks and wiping ketchup on my shirt while I pretend I do to inquirers.
“How did you get him to say MORE?”. I didn’t. He discovered that if he yelled that while banging on my table, I would give him whatever he wants.
“When did he first roll over” Waaaaayyy to early. That’s all I know….
The most common question I get, though, is “Is it true what they say about the second baby? Are they the worst?”
Well… yes actually, they fucking are! They are the BEST, but they are the worst. I’m not gonna lie to you people. My son tests my sanity. Behind that big ol’ smile, something wicked is brewing; it’s usually poop. I thought my parents were wimps when they talked about raising me and my sisters… I was raising a girl and she’s an angel. Now I realize they weren’t talking about how hard it was raising US…. they were talking about ME, the second baby. So I’m sorry parents; I get it now.
I feel like Roman writes himself a little baby to-do list every morning that looks something like this:
- Wake up
- Scream until someone saves me from my comfy-ass crib
- Continue screaming while Mom makes breakfast because 3 minutes is way too damn long to wait for scrambled eggs
- Scream some more if Mom makes me wait for my eggs to cool before eating so I don’t blister my mouth
- Hold in poop till Mom changes diaper. Poop as soon as new diaper is strapped on
- Death roll while Mom is changing poop diaper. Then help her wipe- using only bare hands
- Refuse to put on pants or shoes
- Scream the entire 20 minutes it takes to drive Mykah to school because car seats are bullshit! Mom doesn’t need to listen to morning radio anyway
- Don’t let Mom shut front door when we get home.. and if she locks it, throw self on floor and punch the dog
- Remove every toy from room and launch it directly at Mom’s face.. double points for hitting coffee or making her cry
- Refuse lunch. Then demand to eat Mommy’s lunch. It’s the same as my lunch, but in a glass bowl
- While Mommy is cleaning, climb up her leg and into her arms so I can supervise… and scavenge for snacks
- Find out what is in the trashcan
- Cry for Mykah but don’t let her make eye contact when she gets home from school.
- Daddy’s home, YAY!
- Don’t sit down for dinner until Daddy shares his shake
- Eat 2 bites of dinner before moving on to Mom’s food
- Then eat Daddy’s food
- Bath time, YAY!
- Refuse to put on jammies. Maybe a top, or bottom….but not both
- Lose my shit because I’m tired, but sleeping is for babies
- Give everyone 1000 kisses
- Sneak into Mykah’s bed
- Punch Mom in the kidneys while she takes me from Mykah’s bed and carries me to my comfy-ass crib
- Reluctantly, tell Mom you love her
- Scream until I pass out of exhaustion and possible lack of oxygen
…..this little guy
So… there it is. This is my routine with my second baby. At first it made me cry, a lot! But now I embrace the crazy. At least I’m never bored on my days at home with the kids, not even for a moment. I’ve learned to operate my stove with my eyes still shut cause its too way to freaking early to be cooking and our kitchen lights are blinding. I’ve found ALL the good hiding spots in this house. I can sweep with ONE HAND, compliments of my needy toddler. If you are currently a parent to just one child and are considering having another… dooo it! You don’t need sanity anyway, you’re a Mom now. You only need coffee. And wine. And a blog, ha!
Ps. I apologize to my own parents for having to raise me. Well… I apologize for years 1-12, you brought that teen year shit show on yourself.