Making Adjustments

We were given many, many warnings about moving from one child to two children, most of which centered around how difficult it is to have two, how much of an adjustment it is on your (adult) life. And while it’s not the easiest thing we’ve ever done, it’s taken very little adjustment on our part to fit Margot into our family.  Lily, however, was a whole other matter.

I wouldn’t call Lily an “easy” child. Don’t get me wrong, as far as 3-year-olds go, I think she’s pretty evolved: she can eat in a restaurant, she can survive a long car ride, she can even sleep at Grandma’s house (more to follow, later).  But she’s the Energizer Bunny, a constant motion machine who defies the laws of physics, demanding snacks and drinks and her iPad throughout the whirling dervish, Tasmanian devil-like cloud of destruction that she leaves in her wake.  We’re used to it. We know Lily’s triggers, when she’s about to melt down or act out, and we combat her craziness by injecting a lot of scheduling and structure. We keep to a very tight sleep and food schedule, time outs are administered immediately upon infraction, regardless of location (she once had a time out at the pediatrician’s office-Dr. M. was crazy impressed) and we encourage as much independence as possible-most of Lily’s frustration and irritation comes from her desire to do everything for herself.  If we give her the illusion of independence (even though her life is crazy controlled), she’s very happy-it’s like she’s already a teenager. This is how we’ve kept our “not easy” child from becoming “difficult” (since, according to my mother, I hold the “Most Difficult Child on the Planet” award).

So throwing a baby into the mix, we knew that Lily was going to have the hardest time adjusting.  It started the day I gave birth to Margot.  Lily didn’t want to go to sleep because mommy wasn’t home.  She kept asking Warren where Margot and I were.  And yes, there have been multiple occasions when I wasn’t there to put Lily to sleep (girls’ nights, work events, etc…), but I’ve never been gone overnight, so when I wasn’t there in the morning, or the subsequent two mornings after, Lily was not pleased. 

Then, once we came home, there were the usual issues: Margot got more attention, Margot was always lying on me, I couldn’t pick up Lily (damn you c-section).  Lily started having sleep regression, waking up in the middle of the night and demanding extra cuddles before returning to bed.  Her promising potty training stalled then disappeared altogether.  She started spitting, hitting, kicking, screaming, and all directed as us.  Margot was hers, a little doll for her to play with, to help feed and diaper and soothe.  We were the evil ones for what we’d done to her, but Margot was “my little sister,” and Lily took immediate ownership, saying “Baby Margot, don’t cry. Mommy takes care of you,” which quickly turned into “Baby Margot, don’t cry. I will take care of you.”

Hugging is an Olympic sport in Lily’s world.  Her hugs are big and tight, and she saves them all for Margot, smothering her in big sister love. We didn’t get hugs for at least a week after Margot came home, but Margot needed morning kisses and night-night kisses and special pats and hugs and love love love.  One bedtime I was holding Margot to high and Lily screamed, “Mommy I can’t reach. I have to kiss her cheek.” I lowered Margot down to her sister and Lily gave her a big smooch. “Goodnight baby Margot.”  Neither Warren nor I got any love that night.

And the thing is…well…we’re okay with it. We never had to worry that Lily was going to hurt her sister (at least never intentionally), and we’d rather Lily take out her anger on us. We’re grown-ups; we can take it. It took about 6 or 7 weeks for Lily to forgive us, and we’re pretty sure that Lily normalized so quickly because of two reasons. First, we kept Lily’s schedule as tight and as ritualized as humanly possible. A sibling is an enormous change, so Lily needed to hold fast to structure. Second, when it came to Lily’s interactions with Margot, we hardly ever said no.  You want to hold the baby? Okay, we’ll show you how. You want to feed her? Okay, climb up on my lap and help me hold the bottle. You want to kiss her goodnight? Okay, you got it! You want to have a family bath-time? Okay, Margot, get ready for baths on Lily’s bathroom floor. We let Lily take ownership of her sister. After all, Margot and Lily belong to each other just as much as they belong to us, and we’re going to try our best to keep it that way.

Lily, 3 years, and Margot, 8 weeks