THERE'S a little lady in pink and purple now living in our
house. In fact, she seems to have
brought a sea of pink clothes with her.
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| Rebecca Jean Whiting. born 20 February 2013. |
Our daughter, Rebecca Jean, child number two, was born less
than two weeks ago. Her eyes, beautiful
almond-shaped eyes like her mother’s, now gaze about our house, focusing on the
lights and shapes around her.
Any parent can go into gooey rapture about their wondrous
new child. What I have written above will
suffice for this cloying sentiment. I
want to tell you that I understand why parents often stop at two.
Many of our friends and family have said “that’s it” after
the second arrival. Child number two
seems to initiate a state of parental physical exhaustion and zombyfying
tiredness.
Working parents have to summon up all their energy and
organisational capacities to meet the demands of two vampiric young humans.
With one child, one parent can look after the other parent:
bring food, cups of tea, and the like.
With two children, the other parent must ensure the older
child is fed, not standing on the coffee table trying to reach the phone, nor
playing with the scissors they found in the bottom draw in the kitchen. All whilst child number two is squawking for
more liquid sustenance.
And child number two usually arrives when the first is in
their Terrible Twos. Or Tantrum-atic
Twos.
 |
| The Moore kids and the Whiting kids. Ten kids between two households. |
Last night, I treated my family for our first meal out since
we became four. After eating one
mouthful, Guy found it more interesting to sit under the table and bang on the
table leg with the chopsticks.
When I sat him up at the table again, he started howling
that he wanted to go home. I nearly
obliged him when he took his hollering to the front door of the restaurant, clutching
at the door handles.
The Prime Parental Unit once again saved the day, providing
succour to the Two Year Old Bellower by playing Maisy Mouse on the iPhone.
So two children under three is challenging, enough to make
you put up your hand and say “enough”. And if you can get through this stage, you have the professional skills and abilities to do most any job.
But
the diamonds of pure enchantment with your children are scattered throughout
your house each day.
Guy now hugs me fiercely and whispers “I love you too,
Daddy." To have the new-born blinking at
you, with her mother’s gorgeous eyes, is a reward that will make you endure
anything. Anything.
In fact, it’s enough to make you want to do all again. Let's not give away the pink outfits. Just in case ...
