A Tale of Two Babies

Sorry to get even more uber-parenty on your arses, but that's how it has to be, at least for now.  My youngest has just had her first birthday, and my eldest is two-and-a-half.  They are both possessed of pretty full-on personalities, and are at pretty full-on stages in their wee little lives.  This makes them intensely loveable and loads of fun... and, of course, utterly EXHAUSTING.

She is the smiliest little heart-stealer on the planet, absolutely divine and sweet... and masses of trouble.  She believes that if her brother can climb something, so can she... that if he can initiate a wrestling-match, so can she... and that if mummy takes her away from something, then that is the very thing to play with - with a cheeky grin and squeals of delight throughout (until the inevitable pain of the fall-from-height / squished-by-twice-her-size-brother / thing-being-put-out-of-reach happens).  And he is terrible-two-PLUS.  Our clever, cheeky, "spirited" little man has always been independent, strong-willed and both highly verbal and incredibly physical... so you can imagine how that plays out during the height of a developmental stage marked by defiant tantrums.

I seem to have clawed my way out of the repressed, stressy, post-natal depression that arrival of second-child hit me with.  (I've recently submitted my story of that particular challenge to an upcoming book on the subject... so I'll keep you posted and in some way or other share it here at some point.)  This means that I am now finding myself able to see many of our daily dramas as amusing, rather than purely difficult (at least after the fact).  Indeed, I am here to announce that I plan to use this space to share some of the more entertaining anecdotes that I get to be part of.  Afterall, it would be a shame if I were the only one witnessing these divine moments.  Even if I am the only one who finds them "divine".

So stay tuned for some "Dear Daughter" and "Dear Son" style stories of Miss-One and Master-Two.