Alex Update!

Well, they were right- having your second baby is a million times easier than having your first.  Andy was born after over three hours of pushing.  Alex (Alexander Christopher Berger, Esquire- figured I'd just add Esquire to his name now so that he doesn't have to bother with actually EARNING the title*) was born after three pushes.  And Alex, despite my best attempts to keep my weight down and NOT bear another monstrous eight pounder, weighed even more than Andy- a solid eight pounds, eight ounces.  If I'd have foregone my induction and made it to forty weeks, I would have had a nine pounder.  And that could have gotten ugly.

I have been on a roller coaster of emotions since last Thursday.  I don't even know where to start.  I will say that, yes, you fall in love with your second baby just as quickly and deeply as you did your first.  Even if you spend their first two days** in existence constantly calling them by your first born's name.  Ah well, it's all bells and whistles to them anyway.  And I will also say that taking care of a newborn the second time around is so much easier.  Ridiculously so, really.  It's like having a Baby Alive around that fusses for about ten minutes every three hours or so.  And then you change and feed it and you have another three hours in which to just stare at it, kiss it, and carry it around like an accessory.  Or at least you would if not for your eldest.  Because that's THE hardest part of all this- managing Andy, who is now without a schedule and is super bored.  And rather demanding.

The good news?  Andy has really accepted the baby.  Taken to him, I might say.  "Baby!" he exclaims upon seeing him.  He likes to hold him, help feed him, and give him kisses.  He does these things with the gentleness of an elephant, but he means well.  The real problem has been the swing.  Andy can't accept that the swing is for the baby now and has almost pulled Alex out of there a few times.  "The baby's using the swing," I've tried to explain, "It's a baby swing!"  To which Andy has one of three responses:

Yelling, "Andy turn!"

Attempting to pull the baby out.

Saying, "Mommy, baby," and then pointing to the bassinet, which means, "Ma, get that baby outta my swing and stick him in here, okay?"  At least he's trying to problem solve, which is more than I can say for myself.  Usually I just give in, take the baby out, and let Andy flop heavily down into the swing.  If he breaks that swing, money for a new one is totally coming out of Andy's bank account.  Or mine, since anything that happens between these two is pretty much my fault from here on out.

So, keeping Andy busy and happy is challenging.  Helping Andy adjust to the baby is fine.  Thankfully, Chris is home for now and has been taking Andy to the park, to Monkey Joe's, out shopping, etc, and that has helped.  And having Andy's best friend live next door has been a godsend as well.  They are going to be so sick of us by the end of the summer- or the end of today- or possibly yesterday....

More detail to come- there are a couple stories in the birth of Alex that I want to share.  But for now- the four of us are home and doing fine.  And if anyone would like to come over to play with my super handsome, overly energetic first-born for a few hours- well, for God's sake, start driving here now.





*Kidding!  Or am I?
** I should just go ahead and say "entire life."