Second Child Syndrome

Is it starting already?

I was checking our photo archive to see whether or not Eleri looks like Clio as a newborn, and noticed that at this stage in Clio's existence we had taken over 100 pictures of her; we've taken maybe half that many in the last five days, and truthfully, most of them are in some way of or about Clio.


So I just snapped this one to share a rare glimpse of Eleri awake.


We went to Zoe's disco dance birthday party yesterday, and I took Eleri to pick up our veggies from the CSA Saturday morning, and everyone I ran into was surprised that I was out already (WITH the baby), and commented about how cautious we are with first children; indeed, I don't think I left the house until Clio was about a week old, and she didn't make a real outing until my mom and I took her with us to lunch on her 10th day. In a way, this change in attitude definitely has to do with the confidence we've earned over the past two years of raising a daughter, and our faith that ordinary outings are not going to "break the baby." There is also a related casualness, stemming, I think, from the gradual understanding that perfection isn't possible in parenting, and often "good enough" will have to do. Take Eleri's name. At Zoe's party, our friend Peter asked where it came from, and if it is pronounced "el-AYE-ree." He'd never heard it before, and so looked it up. Funny thing is, the name, spelled Ellery, had been on our early list and removed for a handful of reasons. But when I saw what I thought was the Celtic (read: Irish) spelling of the name, I was sold. Plus, I had been discharged from the hospital, transport was on the way with a wheelchair, and the last piece of business was putting a name on the birth certificate. So we made a fast decision, and only AFTER we came home did I discover that the name is not Irish but Welsh, that it is, as Peter asked, pronounced with the emphasis on the second syllable, and that it doesn't really mean anything at all. Luckily, we love the name and think it suits the girl, but this kind of thing would NEVER happen with a first child.

Finally, of course, second-child-syndrome has everything to do with the demands of parenting the older child: Eleri just had to cry and wait for a few minutes tonight when she got hungry while I was doing Clio's bedtime ritual; and after the 100th time of telling Clio to be "careful," you realize that there's only so much you can do to keep a baby safe from her siblings. Right?

Now, a disclaimer. Despite Missy and Jim's claim that babies are like fires and the ocean in that you can watch them forever, I understand that photos of infants aren't that interesting, and stories about them, even if they are your own, are even less so. But so far, to me, becoming a parent of two does have its tales to tell, and I just might indulge them here.