Rex, Rocky, Vivi, and Billy                                                                            

From one to two.

From one to two.

So I thought I would share my thoughts (who cares?!) on going from one to two kids.  Everyone experiences motherhood differently—blah, blah, blah, duh---so of course my thoughts and feeling may not be the same as yours.  But if you are wondering what it might be like for you in your future, or if you are feeling alone in your current crazy, then read on.  And if you don’t give a shit what I think about this particular topic because you are a boss with five kids already than x this shiz out and rock on.

Okay, so I will just start by saying that I didn’t think too much about the transition from just Rex to Rex and Rock before it happened, thank God.  I was eager to start trying for number two (yay for Matt! #missionary #deadfish) a little before Rex turned one, and we got pregnant right away.  Then shit got a little complicated.  I had a miscarriage.  (I will save the details for another day.  Or no day.  I don’t know.  That shit was tough and I’m not sure I’m ready to throw it all up here on the interwebs just yet.)  Anyway, I got pregnant with Rocky a few months after Rex’s first birthday.  While I was pregnant, I would often envision my life with these two little dicks.   I never worried about how tired I would be, how stressed I might feel, or how impossible some days would seem.  I only had one worry, and it was the same worry every day.  “Will I ever be able to love Rocky as much as I love Rex”.  Awww—that’s cute.  No, seriously, it consumed me.  I worried until the day I gave birth that I wouldn’t be able to really love Rocky.  I mean, come on universe, I already have my main guy!  I think I even told Matt that Rex was mine and he could have Rocky.  What does that even mean?  Well—SPOILER ALERT!—this is the craziest worry in the world.  My therapist (Hey, Joan!) told me “love expands”, and it did!  I am obsessed with Rocky and his weird gap-toothed smile and tweety bird head.  Just as much as Rex.  Overall I would say I love them exactly the same amount, maybe in some different ways and with some different feels—but the same!  (But on a daily basis I do usually have a favorite and that is determined by who is being less of an asshole at any given time.)  So, yeah…I never worried about handling the daily shit.  Come on, most people I know have at least two kids.  It can’t be that hard!

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I will spare you all the month-by-month crazy between then and now and I will just cut to the chase.  IT IS VERY FUCKING HARD.  It is at least three million times harder than I thought it would be.  I don’t know if it is because I have two boys, or one dictator and one Tasmanian devil, or just because I have two kids around two years apart.  But HOLY SHIT BALLS.  This is absolutely no joke.  I don’t even know how to explain it in a way that has any continuity so here are some important take-away points:

·       Whatever fail-safes you relied on to sooth and comfort your first kid can be thrown out the window with kid number two.  Chances are they will be massively different, and although you have done it all before, it will all feel brand new again.

·       You will never be alone.  The naps will rarely sync, and when one is playing happily alone, the other will set off the fire alarm while choking on a dust bunny. 

·       Self-care see ya never, bye.  Remember taking your one baby out for a power walk or jog in the stroller?  Or shooting out at the end of the day for some exercise.  Well, fat chance they will both tolerate the stroller at once for any extended period of time.  And that double stroller is heavy as shit!  And that end of the day workout?  You will be replacing that with a cocktail and a powernap, because when your husband walks in the door at the end of the day you will actually feel like you are on your last living breath.

·       There isn’t enough room in the shopping carts for your two children and all of the shit you need to buy.  That’s just a fact.

·       Quick errands don’t happen.  You have a kid on your hip, or you have a bucket seat in your hand---and then you have to hold the hand of a toddler.  (Unless of course you have a toddler who listens, in which case woohoo for you.) Parking lots are a minefield.  So you should prob have a Y2K bunker where you keep months worth of everything you really need.  Because if you happen to run outta toilet paper at 11am on a Tuesday, you are shit outta luck.

·       Laundry day is every day and every night and cleaning up toys never ever ever ever ends. Ever.

·       Leaving is more scary.  You wanna watch my one kid for a couple of hours so I can get some shit done?  Awesome.  You wanna watch two?  You will need to achieve a qualifying time on American Ninja Warrior and provide me with the results from your latest physical.

·       You no longer have enough eyes, arms, or legs to get you through the day.

Yeah.  I could go one, but I am sure you are sick of me by now. Would you believe that I am actually hoping to have MORE kids someday?!  Yeah.  No shit!  Because at the end of every day, no matter how much they make me want to punch myself in the dick, they are the absolute best things that have ever happened to me.  They make me laugh way more than they make me cry.  And when they start to play together? And laugh together?  And love each other? It is the ultimate life jackpot.

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Some of my friends who have already taken the over-two-kid plunge have said that the transition from two to three is actually easier than one to two.  Because you are already outnumbered and crazed.  I am reaaaaaaaally hoping that is the case.  But whatevz, I’ll have three either way. Because ultimately I cannot pass up the opportunity to dress my kids as the Human Centipede for Halloween.  Yup. Betcha didn’t see that ending coming.

   

 

 

So, stay tuned.  #Halloween2019

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