The Second Child

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Sometimes, I feel awful for Boyo.

Not because he can be a stinker. Not because he is a bruiser. Not because his sister walks all over him. Not because he has to do what he's told.

I feel bad for him because he is the second child.

I feel guilty that he didn't get the one on one attention that his sister got when she was an infant.

I feel guilty that I didn't rock him for hours on end, singing lullabies to him.

I feel guilty that when he cuddles up to me on the couch, I only wrap one arm around him because my other arm is wrapped around his sister.

I feel guilty that I'm not as excited over his milestones as I was for his sister's.

I feel guilty that I'm not as patient with him because I know that while he is trying to decide on what truck/plane/car/ball to play with, his sister is wrecking havoc in the other room.

I feel guilty that I don't let him sleep in our bed as often as I do his sister.

I feel guilty that I don't read him 30 bedtime books a night, like I do for his sister. In my defense, he doesn't sit still for them. I'm lucky if I can get one in.

I just feel guilty.

And then...

...while I was feeling my most guilty...

...a friend said something to me. Okay, so it was an article in Parents Magazine. I'm lame. I know.

Basically, what the article said was: You love every child differently.

And this is true. I love my daughter with the wild abandon I think you can only feel with your first born, a type of disbelief that God has trusted you with this precious little person -- it's almost a fear that you will do something to mess this person up because you love them so much.

And while I love my son the same amount, I do love him differently. The way I love my son is similar to a boiling pot - as if all the love I have is in a pot, but he is the heat that makes it cook, that makes it boil and pop and spill over. I love him with a patient acceptance that I never had with his sister; I'm not afraid of him the way I was of her.

After reading that article, I realized that while Boyo doesn't get the same amount of Mommy/Daddy time that Girlie did/does, he gets something different, something Girlie didn't have until she was 18 mos.

He gets a sibling.

He gets his sister's love and attention in addition to Mommy/Daddy time. When he was born, he all ready had a friend in his older sister, ready and waiting for him to play. He has a partner in crime. He has a collaborator when working out a plan on how to score cookies from Momma. He has someone to play catch with, watch movies with, to twirl with, to play tag with, and to giggle with. He has a fan club. He has someone to talk for him and about him. He has a defender. He has this: