I won’t break him: I was pretty convinced I’d be rushing to A+E at some point having accidentally dropped eldest on his head, twisted his arm trying to wrangle him into one of those damn baby vests, or broken his little legs by crashing the car seat into a wall as I tried to navigate through a tight space. Luckily none of those things happened and with number two I realise his risk of sustaining any of these injuries is small. He is, however, more likely to have his eyeballs poked out, his cot tipped over and his peace significantly broken by his older brother. Rough with the smooth, my friend, rough with the smooth.
I read a lot of blogs on the run-up to number two. I say ‘run up’ but in reality it was more of a steep slug up Everest walking through treacle while dragging a horse-drawn-carriage.
I was already suffering a mild bout of gender disappointment. No dolls house or My Little Ponies for me. Yet. But I was more preoccupied with love.