We're now seven weeks in to life as a family of four and, for the most part, I can say it's not too bad. Andy and I have each had one day when we wanted to scream and run away, but one day each out of 49* isn't so terrible is it?
For me, the thing that makes me want to scream is both children crying at the same time. One child I can deal with. Two, however, and I feel like I must be failing at parenting. And when one of those children is screaming because they're beyond tired but resolutely refusing to go to sleep is infuriating - it reminds me just how poorly designed babies are. Here's a small creature that needs around 20 hours of sleep a day, and yet it doesn't know how to go to sleep by itself, and even with all the help in the world it will often still resist it. That is simply poor engineering.
The other child is usually screaming for a more mysterious reason. Perhaps because I carried his dinner through to the table myself, instead of using my psychic powers to deduct that he wanted to take it himself this time. Or perhaps because I picked the bugs t-shirt instead of the shark one. Or because I gave him milk to drink when he obviously doesn't want milk (even though he asked for milk). Yes, I know. Reasoning is not a toddler's strong point.
There is definitely no Me Time anymore. Or any Us Time either, for that matter. In the tiny window between Child One going to bed and beginning the process of Child Two's (usually more protracted) bedtime, we shovel food down our throats as quickly as possible to give us sustenance for the gruelling night ahead. Then it's bedtime number two, after which I at least am so exhausted that I usually manage about half an hour of gazing blankly at the TV before I cave in and submit to sleep myself.
OK, perhaps I'm over-egging it a little. Edith has proved herself to be a reasonably good sleeper, given some very specific reuqirements which we are gradually beginning to discover. She's not as amazingly adept at it as her brother was. He, if I remember correctly, was basically sleeping through at 8 weeks. She still needs me every 2-3 hours. But waking up to feed her during the night seems like a strangely familiar process, and one that isn't nearly as disruptive this time around. I am just an automated milk provider: reach for child, feed child, return child, back to sleep. Repeat as required until Child One tells us the morning has arrived. She is also a better daytime napper, which allows me some sanity, although naps in the cot are still largely elusive.
But the challenge of having a newborn now seems puzzling - what was all the fuss about last time? They're so easy! As long as you give her sleep and food at the appropriate times, she's happy. The real challenge is managing the two of them together. Especially when one essentially wants to be static most of the time and the other runs around with seemingly limitless energy, is overflowing with questions and demands, and is liable to flick into tantrum mode at a moment's notice for an unguessable reason. Oh, you wanted the blue cup instead of the green cup today, did you? How silly of me!
To be fair to Alec, most of his tantrums took place during the 2 weeks that he was suffering from a really horrible heavy cold (which he kindly shared with the rest of us), and since his sinuses have cleared up, so too have his grumbles. He is a very loving big brother. Each morning he asks to see Edith and give her a cuddle. He brings her blankets, rocks her in her car seat and comes running to tell me as soon as he hears her crying. He picks up Peter Rabbit and holds him to his chest to rock him and pat him in the same way I do when calming Edith to sleep. And although he's slightly resentful of the fact that she takes up so much of my time ('Mummy, put Edith in the chair. Mummy, give Edith to Daddy... etc'), he's not at all resentful of Edith herself. In fact, he's started speaking to her like a friend: 'Look Edith! A gingerbread man!' I think the whole process may even have made him slightly more empathetic. On Sunday, as I attempted to navigate Glasgow's infuriating one-way system with a sat nav that wasn't up to date and Edith crying in the back to be fed, Alec piped up from the back: 'It's tricky isn't it mummy? I know.'
We're doing OK, the four of us.
*If you knew how long it had taken me to do my 7 times table and get the correct number there, you'd be pretty disappointed - a little glimpse into my addled baby brain.
