The Second Class Second Born or Why Is Mom Crazy

“Crap. Library was today wasn’t it? Looks like you’ll have to take your book back next week,” I tell my youngest. Here it was, only the second week of school and I had blown the first library due date. It’s not like I hadn’t had fair warning – I got the newsletter AND the email that clearly stated that library books were due back on Friday. And still I forgot to stick the book in my kindergartener’s school bag. Nothing like setting low expectations with the kindergarten teacher early. Unfortunately this was not the first time it was evident that my Squirrel was a second born. 

See, I never would have dropped a library book due date with my first born, the Moose. Heavens no! And if I had come down with a severe case of food poisoning and was physically unable to lift the book and place it in his book bag, I would have sent a long apologetic email to his teacher, promising that he (and I) were responsible human beings. With my second born, I simply shrugged and figured library day would come around again next week. 

Thus is the fate of the second born. While the first born received books from every book order form that darkened our kitchen counter, the second born is directed to the bookshelf in our house which holds all the previously purchased book order form books and his order form is quietly “filed.” The first born had Friend Birthday Parties beginning at the age of four, complete with themes, goodie bags and treasure hunts. The second born is getting his first this year when he turns six. Instead of a whimsical party at home, I am looking at prefab parties at the Science Center or Skyzone. 

Maybe I’m just getting senile or maybe I just am constantly dropping the ball. But the second kiddo is definitely getting the shaft. I am up to my arms in washing football pants and soccer socks now, which was never a distraction when I was bringing up the first born. While my first born has every second of his life documented in photos, my youngest will have to settle for Facebook posts instead. 

Do I love these babies differently? No and yes. I love them both the same – so much that my heart literally bursts when I think about them. But with my first born, everything was a first and we were EXCITED and ANXIOUS for each new milestone, pushing him through them and forgetting to enjoy the moment, always reading what was supposed to happen next week. I have deleted every single one of those weekly emails with my second born. With my second born, everything is a last – the last time I will experience first steps, the last time I will hear a first word. I rejoiced the day I stopped nursing my oldest. I sobbed for two days when I stopped nursing my second, and still now it tugs a little at my heartstrings when I think of it. With my first born, everything is new – we are starting to experience hormones and I’m already looking forward for that newness to pass. With my second, he will catch me just staring at him and will smile at me, probably wondering what happened to the mom who ha her game together. All I’m doing is soaking in these moments of his age, wishing they would never end – because I know what happens next. Not that the future is bad, but there is nothing like whatever age he is at the moment. I know now not to speed it up.

Maybe if I am still long enough, time will stop and I can revel in it a little bit longer. In the meantime, I am begging forgiveness on library fines and promise to hit the bookfair at conferences. Ask my first born, he’ll vouch for me.