Brothers close in age
Newborn, Parenting, Siblings, Toddler

Things I know to be true with a close-in-age second child

They develop slower:

It’s not because they *are* slower. It’s because you don’t have time sit on the carpet serenely listening to Clanad (?!) while you coax and encourage your baby, righting their position around the cushions while they learn it sit for themselves. No.

You’re too busy fishing the pea out of his big brother’s nose, cooking 3 different suppers for 4 different people and stressing about your tax return.

In fact, my youngest first rolled over while I was on the phone in the other room to my sister-in-law *complaining about his late development*. Poor little bugger.

His ‘Today I rolled over for the first time’ card has an amendment on the bottom “while no-one was watching”. That’s a lifetime on the psychiatrist’s couch right there.

 

You don’t stress about what they’re eating:

While I am trying to be just as careful for youngest to eat healthy meals, I am not watching his calorie intake like the hawk I was with his brother.

“What did he have for breakfast this morning” asks the health visitor. Wait, did he *have* breakfast this morning?

Toys are different:

I packed all of eldest baby toys beautiful and carefully in the loft, snuggling each into their own individual bubble-wrap duvet and marking the bag accordingly. If only I had time to fetch the bastard things.

If I do find an age appropriate toy, my eldest soon exchanges it and I find him haring around with Sophie The Giraffe while the baby is discovering how good metal trucks are for teething gums. It’s almost impossible.

In fact youngest quite liked a dummy when he was still tiny, but his brother spent so many happy hours plucking it out of his infant brother’s mouth and sucking it himself that we had to bin the damn things. Sorry, baby.

 

He’ll never be alone* (*apart from when he rolls over for the first time):

From the moment he opens his little eye in the morning, to the minute he closes them at night, his brother is there, shouting, singing, dancing, chatting, playing.

On the rare days his brother is in at the childminder, youngest looks at me with slight disappointment and pity: “how are *you* going to entertain me, eh?” Nothing compares to the companionship of a close sibling.

I’ll re-write this when they’re old enough to wrestle each other and then see where we are…

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