No Second Child Syndrome Here

I've heard other parents and friends discuss at length how things change from child number one to child number two. How you go from needing everything to be shiny and new to being much more accepting of hand-me-downs and consignment finds. I've heard people talk about how with #1 a dropped pacifier meant breaking a new one out of the package whereas with #2 they'd just pop it in their own mouth and give it back. (And with #3+ it doesn't even get that, it's just floor to mouth again).

I'm beginning to think I have something wrong with me. I don't have the second child syndrome... not yet anyway.

With Connor if someone offered me clothes, I took them and used them without fail. With Tate, all of the clothes I had shared with my sister when she had her two children found their way back to our closet- in addition to all of the clothing she bought/received for her two! I've bought new stuff, new bedding and such for Tate and I've had friends shower he and I with wonderful gifts and ensembles. I wanted things for Tate to be just as perfect (if not more so) as they were for Connor.

As for the whole pacifier scenario, I can't really say one way or another what we'd do with that. We don't use pacifiers. Before both boys were born we said we wouldn't use them. We ended up starting to use them when Connor was 2.5 months old and his reflux was so incredibly terrible that per the Ped GI's recommendation we gave them to him to help him keep some of his "food" down. Tate thankfully has only spit up about 10 times in the past 3 weeks 6 days (I'll post tearfully tomorrow about my struggle to cope with him turning 4 weeks old) and he doesn't really cry.

The real test has been as far as germs and hand washing are concerned. I still have a bottle of hand sanitizer on the table as soon as you walk into the house. Gabe still comes in, changes clothes, washes hands, sanitizes hands and then picks up Tate. Connor tells people to wash their hands, etc. I carry a container of Lysol wipes in the diaper bag and wipe down anything we touch outside of our "bubble". Today while dropping Connor off at VBS (again another post) a little well intending girl walked over to us squealing "He's sooooo cute" at an ear piercing level. Then (cue Psycho music) she reaches her hands over to his face and says "Can I touch him". I felt like a truly evil, unchristian woman when I unapologetically said "No."

Again, no second child syndrome appearing as of yet. I suppose I'm still in Mama Bear mode. My poor boys are probably going to have me committed at some point. If they don't my husband might.