Back when I was a new Mom (oh, ya know, way back four years ago) Hubs and I made a rule - once we started a new phase, no matter how hard it became for us there was no going back.
When we began potty training Nick around 18/19 months old, we never went back to NOT potty training. Once we put him in pull-ups and then training underpants, we never went back to diapers. Once we put him in a "big boy" bed, he never went back to a crib, irregardless of how many times we had to put him back in bed.
But everything's different with baby #2.
They tell ya that, but you just don't believe it till you see it for yourself.
Don't get me wrong - I've captured enough cute moments of boys hugging or sharing their cereal to prove its all worth it.
But what I mean is that the second kid is NEVER like the first. No matter what you're dealt with your firstborn, the second is a whole new ballgame.
February 2007: Enter Will.
He's not a cryer - he's a good sleeper and a better eater. Wow. They were all wrong! Yay me!
He grows quickly, getting chubby and giving away more dimpled smiles than some kids do in a year. His little Buddha belly is so sweet, his chunky thighs so squeezable (and ticklish!), the toes on his square little feet so nomable. But as he nears the sitting up and crawling stages, something becomes abundantly clear.
Will is the perfect name for my child.
If something was his idea? Grand! At eight months old, he'd pull himself to standing and hover there forever.
In front of the doctor at a wellness visit? Notsomuch.
I swear I saw the gleam in his eye while the doc shot questioning glances in my direction.
He could walk at 12 months, but just wouldn't do a whole lot of it, no matter how much pleading and promises you'd make. Finally, at 15, he set off to take on the world.
At 16 months, he would pat the offending side of his diaper (after the fact), say "poo poo" and point toward the bathroom. He'd willingly sit on the potty as often as you'd put him there, grinning like the king of the world.
At 21 months? Notsomuch. If you're within an hour of either side of his nap (either too tired or not yet awake enough) he'll either go limp or stiff as a board, refusing bend at the waist and sit on the toilet.
Two weeks ago we took the side off his crib, lowering the mattress and putting up the toddler bed rails. He LOVED it. Would climb up in it and read books (to Bald Baby, of course) or play. He felt like a Big Boy. I had to take toys out of it before tucking him in bed at night.
The trouble? The boys share a room. Once the lights were off and the door closed it was as if I declared a free-for-all.
No sooner would my arse brush the couch cushion than I'd hear "teeheeeheeeheeehee!" followed by the pitter patter of pajama-ed feet across the carpet.
Sighing, I'd head back to the boys' room (12' away) and put the offender back in bed.
Repeat. 52 times.
If I took Nick out of the room? Will'd stay in his bed, chattering to himself for a few minutes before drifting off to sleep.
Put Nick back? World Wide Giggle-Wrestle Federation.
For a week and a half I gave them three chances, then Nick went in Mommy & Daddy's bed. This solved the problem and both would be sleeping in no time.
But that gets old, too. Carrying a sleeping (heavy!) kid to bed at 11 p.m. when I might possibly jostle him awake can only be done so many times before you're willing to bite the bullet and try another tactic.
So last night, I put the boys in bed and sat down on the floor between them with the lights off. They quickly realized they weren't going to get away with their middle-of-the-night match-ups, but also that they could jiggle and jump around in their beds long enough to outlast their Momma's patience.
Forty minutes later, my butt was sore from sitting on the floor, my knees were stiff and both boys were still awake. (I heard "MOMMY! Are you still there?!?" fifteen times before I threatened to cancel Nick's birthday party and made him cry, kicking us back to square one.) Thanks for nothin', Super Nanny.
So that's it. I'm callin' Uncle. Today, Daddy put the crib rail back on William's bed.
He's just a stronger Will than I!
When we began potty training Nick around 18/19 months old, we never went back to NOT potty training. Once we put him in pull-ups and then training underpants, we never went back to diapers. Once we put him in a "big boy" bed, he never went back to a crib, irregardless of how many times we had to put him back in bed.
But everything's different with baby #2.
They tell ya that, but you just don't believe it till you see it for yourself.
Don't get me wrong - I've captured enough cute moments of boys hugging or sharing their cereal to prove its all worth it.
But what I mean is that the second kid is NEVER like the first. No matter what you're dealt with your firstborn, the second is a whole new ballgame.
February 2007: Enter Will.
He's not a cryer - he's a good sleeper and a better eater. Wow. They were all wrong! Yay me!
He grows quickly, getting chubby and giving away more dimpled smiles than some kids do in a year. His little Buddha belly is so sweet, his chunky thighs so squeezable (and ticklish!), the toes on his square little feet so nomable. But as he nears the sitting up and crawling stages, something becomes abundantly clear.
Will is the perfect name for my child.
If something was his idea? Grand! At eight months old, he'd pull himself to standing and hover there forever.
In front of the doctor at a wellness visit? Notsomuch.
I swear I saw the gleam in his eye while the doc shot questioning glances in my direction.
He could walk at 12 months, but just wouldn't do a whole lot of it, no matter how much pleading and promises you'd make. Finally, at 15, he set off to take on the world.
At 16 months, he would pat the offending side of his diaper (after the fact), say "poo poo" and point toward the bathroom. He'd willingly sit on the potty as often as you'd put him there, grinning like the king of the world.
At 21 months? Notsomuch. If you're within an hour of either side of his nap (either too tired or not yet awake enough) he'll either go limp or stiff as a board, refusing bend at the waist and sit on the toilet.
Two weeks ago we took the side off his crib, lowering the mattress and putting up the toddler bed rails. He LOVED it. Would climb up in it and read books (to Bald Baby, of course) or play. He felt like a Big Boy. I had to take toys out of it before tucking him in bed at night.
The trouble? The boys share a room. Once the lights were off and the door closed it was as if I declared a free-for-all.
No sooner would my arse brush the couch cushion than I'd hear "teeheeeheeeheeehee!" followed by the pitter patter of pajama-ed feet across the carpet.
Sighing, I'd head back to the boys' room (12' away) and put the offender back in bed.
Repeat. 52 times.
If I took Nick out of the room? Will'd stay in his bed, chattering to himself for a few minutes before drifting off to sleep.
Put Nick back? World Wide Giggle-Wrestle Federation.
For a week and a half I gave them three chances, then Nick went in Mommy & Daddy's bed. This solved the problem and both would be sleeping in no time.
But that gets old, too. Carrying a sleeping (heavy!) kid to bed at 11 p.m. when I might possibly jostle him awake can only be done so many times before you're willing to bite the bullet and try another tactic.
So last night, I put the boys in bed and sat down on the floor between them with the lights off. They quickly realized they weren't going to get away with their middle-of-the-night match-ups, but also that they could jiggle and jump around in their beds long enough to outlast their Momma's patience.
Forty minutes later, my butt was sore from sitting on the floor, my knees were stiff and both boys were still awake. (I heard "MOMMY! Are you still there?!?" fifteen times before I threatened to cancel Nick's birthday party and made him cry, kicking us back to square one.) Thanks for nothin', Super Nanny.
So that's it. I'm callin' Uncle. Today, Daddy put the crib rail back on William's bed.
He's just a stronger Will than I!
He once ate everything. Now, notsomuch.
Who taught this child to POUT?!?
"I am NOT wearing MITTENS!!!"
We had this new humidifier for two days before Will decided it needed to be decorated.
No one puts Baby in a corner.
Well, this Momma does.
15 comments:
He is CUTE
Good Lord, I hated the Terrible Twos. They actually were the Terrible Twos AND Threes in my house. Ick.
And I invoked the name of Supernanny in today's post too. Must be something in the water. :)
"No one puts Baby in a corner."
I busted out laughing at that one.
Dude, you and I share parallel lives. Totally.
I swear my two girls came from different mothers. And my babies go in the corner w/ no trepidation from this Mama.
very adorable boy. And yes, it's true. Totally different battles/frustrations/talents with each child.
Oh, I feel your pain. We're heading into the trying threes. Every morning when I try to put my girl's socks on she instantly tells me I've put it on the wrong foot. I now ask her which foot the sock goes on so she has no one to blame for the wrong choice but herself. It doesn't always work, I've found.
It's amazing how they can stick to their guns and make us cave, isn't it? I don't consider it so much a defeat as preservation of my sanity.
I feel your pain, hang in there.
You know I feel your pain. I hate having wash, rinse, repeat 52 times.. it drives me insane.. though he is really a super cutie..
Jogging In Circles
I'm right there with you my daughter is 22 months. OUCH
So, you could always call him "spirited" - that's a nice way to put it.
And love the "no one puts baby in a corner" comment - the baby I babysit has a onesie that says that. I bust up everytime the Mom puts her in it.
Our youngest will never be allowed to be friends. They would gang up on us, I'm sure.
Aww poor guy! I feel so sorry for him and want to hug him but at the same time I was giggling.
They do warn you about #2, but you just don't know. I think Will should be the girlie's middle name.
The two's weren't actually as bad for me as the 3's...
Dude. Im sorry to break it to you.
He is a middle child. ;)
This is when I realize perhaps having one kid makes my life that much easier. Then again I'm a single mom so it's kind of like having two when there is only me around. He's adorable and yes the name is very fitting.
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