Bringing up Baby. And Baby's Nemesis, Toddler.

So. Two kids. I've been doing this double duty mothering thing for a couple of weeks now, so I can tell you exactly what it's all about. (For my two kids only, of course. For any general knowledge on actually raising any amount of children, go ask your mother. I'm totally winging it here.) Basically, the baby is easy. Either Madeline was twenty times harder, or I've gotten slightly smarter. I'm inclined to believe it's a combination of having an idea what I'm doing this time and having a very chill baby who does her best to make life good for me. Kimberly sleeps well, eats well (she's already gained a pound on her birth weight), and hardly cries. She almost always takes naps whenever I want her to, and a bad night is waking up twice and getting the hiccups so that she can't go back to sleep. I am definitely, definitely spoiled so far, and probably just jinxed myself. Expect a post tomorrow about my ultra fussy, sensitive, sleepless newborn who poops all over the carpet and throws rowdy parties at one in the morning for all her newborn friends.

No, the hardest part about having a newborn this time is definitely having a toddler. Outwardly Madeline loves the baby-to a fault. She loves to hold her, touch her, poke her, and in all other ways smother her with affection. But her other behavior would indicate she definitely has jealousy issues. She likes to randomly hit, kick, poke, and otherwise torment her sister. She has definite separation anxiety with both Jessie and I. We're talking fits when Jessie goes to meetings, crying when I go up the stairs too fast so she can't see me, and freaking out going to nursery, which she normally has no problem with. And nightmare tantrums when it's time for naps or bed. She also desperately wants to be the baby, manifested by her sudden desire to be changed on a blanket or changing pad, sticking binkies in her mouth, needing a glass of milk whenever I nurse the baby, and wanting to be held and carried. It's terribly amusing when it's not terribly frustrating. Seriously, the number of times Kimberly has made me cry since being born: 0. The number of times Madeline has made me cry since Kimberly was born: a few more than that. Fortunately, the hormonal crying fits have also been significantly less this time around. Less wasted tissues and headaches. So we're working on the toddler situation and assuring Madeline we're not putting her up for adoption now that there's someone quieter in the house. On a brighter note, hearing her apologize to Kimberly is pretty adorable. And we get the opportunity to hear it often.

Let us not be downhearted over Madeline's insecurities. Overall, life really is significantly less stressful and sleep-deprived than I imagined it would be. This parenting gig is pretty sweet compared to a nine to five job. Or at least that's what I tell Jessie when the poor slob has to go to work in the morning while I watch Toy Story. How I love Woody and Buzz.