My silly, desperate attempt to get back into my son’s good graces after the birth of a second child.
Friends, I struggled with the “one to two child” transitionhttps://www.helenlacey.co.uk/. It was rough. The kiddo juggling made me feel like I was in the middle of a tornado. He needs to eat. I need to feed her. She just had a blow out. He just spilled an entire box of Cheerios on the ground. I just tripped over said box of Cheerios while holding my newborn who just had a blowout. AAAHHHH!!
One of the hardest parts for me was trying to figure out how to maintain my relationship with my first child. My best friend. My son, Colin. Fellow mamas of more than one child, I know you hear me on this one. You think nothing will ever be the same. That’s what I thought. And, in a way, nothing ever was the same. That turned out to be ok, though.
But, at first, it definitely was not.
One evening, during the “witching hour,” the most anxiety-filled time in a new parent’s life, it just “became too much” for me to bear. And it all started with my son kicking me out of the bathroom….
The story….
It was time to pull out all the stops. If I ever wanted my sweet little boy to love me again, I needed to act. Fast.
Colin didn’t want me to give him a bath, like I’d done every day since the day he was born (Ok, maybe not every day….every week…hopefully? 😬) He wanted me out of the bathroom immediately. He looked at me like, “Mama, you see Dada in here? He’s the only one who takes care of me now. He gives me my baths. You should go take care of that baby in the other room who’s bound to start crying any moment.”
Because that’s what she does. We love her. She’s adorable. But she cries. A lot. Baby Colin never cried, and we aren’t quite sure how to handle this new little person. Colin feels it, too. He sees our exhausted faces. The tears. The helplessness and confusion, and he has chosen “Dada,” the more sane one, to help him navigate this new life.
I knew that my relationship with my son would change after introducing another baby into the mix, and I had prepared myself for it. But in that moment, standing in the bathroom, watching my husband carry on with our son like nothing had changed, was just too much. I needed to do something. I couldn’t take it anymore.
I was jealous of my husband.
I was sad.
I was desperate.
And I was goin’ in!
Yes, I realize jumping into a bathtub fully clothed won’t get me considered for my own variety show anytime soon, but my audience was a 2-year-old boy who, at the time, thought Caillou was comedy gold.
My bathtub flop had to work. It just had to.
And….it did.
At first, Colin just stared at me like, “Ohhhkay, this lady formally known as ‘Mama’ has officially lost it.”
And then…. the laughter. The sweetest laugher I had ever heard.
If only for a moment, I had my boy back. He loved me. My needy, broken heart was whole again. I got out of the tub, put on dry clothes and happily fed my sweet baby girl.
We were gonna be ok.
P.S. The answer to your question is yes. One of my socks is gray and the other is white. The “one to two child” transition is no joke.
But if you’re there now, or about to be there, you’ll get through it and your brain will start to function (somewhat) normally again. And, if you ever feel like you’re losing your connection to your firstborn, just jump into a tub full of water, fully clothed. Worked for me.
by Ashli A. Keyser
Hang in there, Beautiful Mamas!
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