A little change of pace with this post just to shout out to all those amazing multi-mummys who I hope will nod and agree with me. And to all those second time round mamas-to-be awaiting their newest arrival – probably with a mixture of excitement and sheer terror at how baby number 2 will come along and disrupt the delicate balance you’ve probably just about got down with baby number 1…
YOU GOT THIS!
I remember just before I had my second monkey man, my littlest sister (also a fabulous supermama) telling me she found life with two kids easier than one.
Obviously, I thought she must have been suffering from some sort of sleep-deprived madness which comes with having two (gorgeous) little ones under two!
But now I’m 5 months into being a mama of two. (REALLY?! where has that gone!)
I think maybe I am starting to get it. Maybe.
Being a first time mum can be pretty lonely right? And no-one really tells you this before it happens. It’s just you and baby for company most of the day, and in those very early days most of that time is spent glued to the spot crouched over the moses basket watching baby sleep (read: breathe) like a hawk.
When baby groups are over, you’ve probably spent twice your family allowance online ordering cute hand-made matching leggings and dribble bibs off Etsy and you’ve called just about everyone you can call for a chat about Holly’s choice of outfit on This Morning (always fabulous), it’s just you two – and the house is quiet. SO QUIET!
Second time around, me and my husband (and our toddler/alcohol-drained bank balances) decided that as amazing our nursery was, I would be a full time mama on mat leave to both our little men.
And between the hours of 8am and 6pm Monday to Friday biggest little man is (most of the time) my SAVIOUR. The welcome noisy disruption in my never-to-be-quiet-again house. The otherwise uneventful and uninspiring everyday made amazing and exciting through his eyes. The everlasting energy that just keeps me going and going.
Littlest little man really has no choice but to come along with us for this ride, but I’m lucky he seems more than happy to.
There’s absolutely no time to agonise over precisely how many ounces he’s had in all his feeds today or if he’s had his required 15 mins of tummy time. (Tummy time with your second?!)
No time to madly rock him back to sleep ‘before it’s too late’ like a crazy lady if he wakes up a bit too early from a nap (or is inevitably woken up a bit too early by his big brother running round the house screaming “HULK SMASH!”)
And you know what? Littlest is doing just fine, better than fine even. He’s just going with the flow. He’s pretty damn amazing.
So YES, having two is twice as tiring. YES, it’s twice as crazy. YES, there’s twice as much washing and twice as much poo. Some days (most of the time in fact) it’s such bloody hard work I want to cry. And quite often I do cry.
But there’s also twice the cuddles, twice the snuggles and twice the amount of little fingers wrapped around my own. I absolutely love it and for now I wouldn’t want to change a single thing.
I do daydream about them being a bit bigger and going off and playing with each other deep in their own little imaginary worlds but at the moment I am soaking up being lucky enough to be the centre of both their universes.
We are The Three Musketeers!
Until Daddy comes home.
Then I have no idea what happens because they both go batsh*t crazy.
And Mama goes to pour herself a very large glass of wine.