Girls have a funny way of reacting when you bring another girl home for the first time. They suddenly want more attention, need to be held and kissed constantly, and whine over every single, little thing. They appear to have this unrealistic expectation that they should be at the center of your universe and when it’s no longer the case, you should see the heart-wrenching sobbing which follows.
Apparently, the mourning process has begun.
No, I’m not talking about my wife. And no, I didn’t bring home a mistress. I’m talking about bringing home the second baby.
When we had Nat, our first month consisted of three main areas: feeding, sleeping, pooing. Don’t get me wrong, it may be only three things to manage but it takes absolutely EVERYTHING out of you. Now that we have Sam, we still have to face the same three things, in addition to…a jealous princess.
The day that Sarah gave birth, Nat came to the hospital. She was not herself at all – she was quiet, moody and confused. We had tried to prepare her for many months, encouraging her to stroke mummy’s pregnant stomach and kissing it everyday, emphasising that Sam was inside. At the hospital, we told her that Sam had come out and was very excited to meet her, and that she was no longer inside mummy. It took her awhile to understand and she still sometimes went to stroke the tummy as though Sam was still inside.
We then carried her up to the bed where we did a ‘present exchange’, with Sam giving Nat a Mickey Mouse handbag and Nat giving Sam a monkey soft toy she had picked out from the store a few weeks back. That went relatively smoothly – Nat was still very mellow but she handled it both with grace and calm; receiving the gift with joy and handing over the gift to Sam without trying to hold on to it for herself. She even stroked Sam’s hair and gently hugged her.
Then, the next day we checked out of the hospital and went home. And this is when Nat started acting up quite a bit. She refused to let anyone carry Sam and if anyone even made a move towards Sam’s direction, she’d immediately run to them and demand to be carried. If baby Sam moved from one person to the next, Nat would follow them like a bloodhound, crying and asking to be carried and comforted.
Nat has started holding on to the cot whenever Sam sleeps and jumping up and down, shaking it to try to wake her – she even climbs in to lie down for awhile…sometimes when Sam is still sleeping inside! And whenever Sarah breastfeeds, Nat would climb on the bed, jump around the baby and demand to be carried or to hug Sam in the middle of breastfeeding. When we would gently scold her and hold her back from jumping on the baby, she would turn to us with tears in her eyes and shout “Nat ‘sayang’ baby Sam!!!”, as though asking us why we would stop her from cuddling her little sister.
It’s not been easy. At all. And it takes a lot of extra energy and time to manage this new dimension to family life. I have to intentionally spend a lot of one-to-one time with Nat now. Just yesterday, we went to the playground and then walked to the grocery store to share an ice cream (shhh, don’t tell mummy). I then bathed her and sat her on my lap while we went through some of her favourite nursery rhymes together. In total, I must have spent at least 1.5 hours with her alone.
Does she still act up? Of course. Does she still react like she’s lost her parents? Most definitely. Does she regress to a baby who apparently doesn’t know how to walk yet and want to be carried all the time? Yup. And does it take a lot out of us to constantly reassure and love her in words, actions and time? A million times, yes.
But is it worth it?
Yes, yes, and yes.
She may be a bratty princess during this season. But she’s MY bratty princess. And I love her to bits.
Even if she were to take an extraordinarily long time to get over being ‘dethroned’ as the only baby princess in my life (although I hope she doesn’t take too long!), I would still love her the same and that won’t ever change.
I’m not even biding my time and tolerating until she comes around. I loved spending time with her yesterday because in situations where she knows she has my undivided attention, she reverts to the baby girl I’ve known the last 1 year 9 months. The cheeky, irrepressible bundle of energy squealing with delight every time I chase her across the field or every time she slides down the slide without any help.
The unbelievably cute toddler who puts her index finger to her lips and says “SSHHHHH” when I tell her that we can’t tell mummy that we are having ice cream, and then forgets the moment we get home and runs to Sarah screaming “IIIIICCCEEEE CCCRRREEEEAAAAMMMM!” with uncontained joy…which is then accompanied by an accusing stare and then a resigned rolling of the eyes after from my wife.
Yup, she’s still my little peanut. And she may not be perfect my but she’s my kind of ‘imperfect’. I should warn that I’m allowed to call her naughty but I’d get very defensive if anybody else tells me that to my face.
I can’t help it – I’m just a terribly biased dad…and proud of it.
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