You Never Get Two The.......Sssshhhhh

Being a "young" or "teen" mum, two phrases I hate but will use through necessity, I'm fairly sure was the reason behind me being a somewhat naive parent for roughly the first 16 years of having kids.
(Don't get too preachy if you've read other blogs and know my oldest human only turned this magical age two months ago 🙄)
I don't agree that being naive makes you a crappy parent, it just has a tendency to make certain things more of a shock than you'd hope for.
I could list a million things that no one had the good grace to warn me of before my first little bean stretched every part of me and left me with only mild horror at the size blood clots apparently can grow to. ( Almost human size, FYI) but that's another tale altogether.
The biggest unexpected thing for me, the thing I didn't see coming a mile off and really bloody should have, was how different my second human would be to her sister. Two completely different Y chromosome providers and I went through the last pregnancy in some moronic dreamland thinking she would sleep, eat and behave just as well as her predecessor.
I can only assume birthing a human at 18 combined with my mid 20 pregnancy hormones had reduced my brain function dramatically.
There's a very "well known" saying when discussing second, third or even a tenth child,
"You never get two the same..."
I can't have been the only pregnant women in the land to think that meant each child would have a slightly different nose or hair colour, surely?!
They may indeed have different characteristics, but that phrase, invented by some penis wielding man no doubt, gives little, to no real inkling of the possible darker meaning behind it. If baby number one happened to be a terrible sleeper, screamed every hour for the first year and a half, hit the terrible twos early and regularly smears food on your new sofa, then rest easy and walk away from this entry. You will never know the horror, the real heart-wrenching moment of realising the above description applies to your second human.
My now-teenager was a gift from someone above (I know who, and I thank her daily) she barely cried, ate everything she was so lovingly given from a HiPP organic jar and slept like a hibernating badger. Every year I expected something remotely like bad behaviour and it just never came.
And I was duped.
Tricked into believing this was Motherhood and I was so bloody good at it.
"Look at my child, the one everyone gushes over, haven't I done well!"
Then BOOM!
Second human enters the world, gives me one night of baby bliss (which I'll share another time) and then rolled straight into crying at regular intervals through the night, thinking it was acceptable to sick up on every piece of stretched out clothing I owned and requiring two freaking ambulances twice in her first two weeks of life!
She taught me what it was to see blue lips for the first time, to experience real terror.
Breath holding attack's were this little madams forte. Don't be fooled into thinking this is a trick that only toddlers play to get their own way.
Uh-Uh, nope.
When your teeny human decides to grow a stubborn streak at 9 and 10 months old then be prepared for their little brains to just go into meltdown. It can't keep doing all it needs to keep the little shit alive so it has to find a way to reset itself. That way would involve stopping the oxygen flow for long enough to give you a heart attack, shut down the screaming and brain overload and start everything back up again.
Little crap bag baby is hunky dory and you remain pale skinned for a fortnight.
My second little bean just kept it coming, time and again. Sometimes it was a new challenge. One you never imagined could be possible.
You'd think after all these years of carry on I'd have suffered enough but no, just to be really sweet she also induced what can only be described as crippling anxiety that still lingers 8 years down the line.
She was a monster, the complete opposite of what I thought I was put on this planet to produce.
And they kept saying it, the people, the visitors, for years after she arrived........that phrase that no one was decent enough to explain thoroughly before you indulged in some unprotected sex a second time.
"You never get two the......."
Shut up, Maureen! Shut up! I know. Now I bloody know. Now naive isn't in my vocabulary other than when needed for writing accounts of a past life. A time when I just didn't know better. A time when different meant you had one child who was good at math and another who was a creative soul who liked books.
It's a life I wouldn't have back too quickly. I love my humans for their own individual qualities, their little life-saving skills that keep me afloat day after day, but if you never get two the same, then I'll not be chancing a third.
Happy Parenting


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