Don't Believe the Nay-Sayers

Because the second child is easier. It's really difficult to tell if this child is just so different from our first, or if we're just more competent and confident as parents, or both, but adding this second child to our family has been just so damn easy.

Allow me to list the ways, as a sort of rundown of our mistakes, misgivings, and discoveries thus far unearthed through life with number two:

ONE:  He sleeps so much better. Jupiter was up three, four, (god help me) five times per night for the first three months. Maybe, on a special night, he would only wake me twice. But it was rare. And we had to work so hard to get him to sleep. Sweet jesus the rocking, rocking, rocking and shushing, shushing, shushing and bouncing, bouncing, BOUNCING. This was perhaps because we thought he might ought to consider being on a schedule. Perhaps he didn't need quite as much sleep as we thought he did, and we never allowed him to try to put himself to sleep until much, much later.

The second child? Since the very beginning he has only woken twice each night, and one time he only woke up once. ONCE! Before turning a month old. Also, he just falls asleep all over the place. By himself. For naps, for night sleep. I thought this was just a sleepy newborn thing at first, but it has continued and even gotten more prevalent. If you had told me this was going to be the case, on both accounts, I would have said you were out of your mind, newborns just don't do that, especially breastfed ones because they just need to eat so often and also stop getting my hopes up because I am prepared for Hell, Part II.

But it's true. It's definitely a temperament thing. George is just so chiiiiiiiil. But it's also us. Having an almost-three-year-old means that George doesn't get to have a schedule and a mama who works to get him to sleep on a schedule. It means that he spends a lot of time out of the house, at parks, and in his mama's arms as she chases his older brother away from the cat's tail for the millionth time. So when he needs to sleep, he just sleeps. Also, I started putting him down drowsy far earlier than I did with Jupiter, knowing now that it's actually beneficial for them to learn to put themselves to sleep and that they are in fact capable of learning to do it. They might look all blobby and floppy and they can't focus their eyes or keep from smacking themselves in the face, but they can learn. A lot. And they will if given the chance.

TWO: I don't read any of those damn books. As a result, I am much, much less stressed out. I don't know how many hours George is supposed to be sleeping and I don't care. I don't know when he sleeps or eats or whether he's developing a schedule, we just go with the flow. Jupiter showed us time and time again that babies don't read the books. And I decided that I wouldn't, either. They can give a new parent some grounding, some validation, but there is always someone out there with a book that says something different, even contradictory. I have found that it's best to go ask your mom. Or a friend. Or, better yet, lots of friends. Community.

THREE: The big transition from not-parent to parent has already taken place, so you don't think it's strange and disheartening to spend every night at home, shower at lightening speed, and eat cold food. You know way more parents now who share your experiences, so you don't feel so isolated. And you've been here before so you know, really know that every phase passes, every non-sleeping day will be soon followed by some sleep, breastfeeding gets easier, and with sufficient love and care your child will be fine no matter which philosophy you follow.

FOUR: I don't follow any particular philosophy. Trying to pick one and use it just added to my stress.

In fact, the only truly difficult thing so far, one month into this, has been the effort to grant enough patience and attention to our older child. Judging by the number of times Jupiter asks to hold George, kiss his head, and tell everyone we run into about his baby brother, I think we're succeeding.