It dawned on me last night (well, extremely early hours of the morning, to be more accurate) that I am HAVING ANOTHER BABY. Not that I didn't really know that (the growing bump and constant kicking are pretty good clues). I knew that I was having a baby. And I knew that I already had one (she's kind of noisy, it's hard to forget). But it seems to have only just occurred to me that I am going to have the one I already have, and then I'm going to have another one, and they're both going to live in my house, and I'm going to have to deal with them both, at the same time. I think I've been in quite a considerable amount of denial about this. I've been convincing myself that the second one won't be as hard, because, in theory at least, I kind of know what I'm doing, so I won't have to deal with that "Oh my God what is this thing that has come into my life and what do I do with it?" fog that descends on you with your first (or at least I sincerely hope not). In fact, I've been looking forward to enjoying the bits about having a newborn that you're just too overwhelmed to appreciate the first time round, such as knowing that if you put them down and leave the room, you don't come back to find them wiping their nose on your washing and sticking a 10p piece in the DVD player.
But The Toddler is still going to be The Toddler. She's not going to suddenly decide not to have inexplicable fits of rage at 1.30am. She's not going to stop wanting 13 choruses of Jingle Jangle Scarecrow before she finally gets bored and wanders off. She's not going to suddenly realise that face-washing is not evil, and submit peacefully instead of flinging herself around the bathroom in indignation. In short, The Toddler is still going to be Very Hard Work.
So what do I do when they both want something at once? How do I deal with one of The Toddler's epic rages when I've got The New'un stuck to my boob? How do I change The New'un's nappy if The Toddler decides to jump on it, or steal the changing bag? I suppose the answer is that I just suck it up and get on with it, like every other mother of more than one has done since the beginning of time. I do what I've always done and just muddle through, and accept that, at times, one or other of them is just going to have to wait. I accept that I am going to be tired, and frazzled, and confused, and very probably even more grumpy than normal for the forseeable future.
Or, I could sell The Toddler on ebay. I'd miss her though. She's pretty cute. Not at 1.30 in the morning, mind.
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