And Then There Were Two...

A friend of mine once told me (while grunting through the transport of both her children into a daycare center) that having one child is like having a pet. And I found that strange. I mean, sure, kids sometimes pee on the floor, hump your leg and bite the mailman in the groin, but otherwise, they can't be comparable to an animal, can they? Well, looking back at my time as a parent of only one, Antonio now seems like a docile German Shepherd. Oh, and for the record, conceiving number two was WAY easier than trying to drop a number two nowadays. Sorry, that's gross. Let's move on.

I've since realized the main reason for the pet comparison- feed them and give them a place to sleep, and you can go about your lives without completely losing your God damn mind. And they're a nice little companion, to boot. But what really drives home the whole pet thing is the numbers game. When you have one Labrador Retriever, you can totally leave him home to fend for himself while you assume a relatively normal and active social (read: sex) life. Same goes with one kid, although leaving him home alone with a saucer of water is generally frowned upon.

In a nutshell, going from one kid to two is like going from coffee to crack- it gets intense in a hurry. And in two week's time, I will be assuming the role of delivering both of them to daycare simultaneously. This has various ramifications, none of which are good for anyone. For starters, I'll have to develop a delivery plan. When I get to the center, do I take Antonio out of the car first and then Nate? If I do that, it's a race against time trying to finish before Antonio runs into oncoming traffic. If I take Nate out first, I'll have to place him in his seat on the ground and hope squirrels don't get at him. Tough call. And this doesn't even take into account the screaming and crying that will ultimately take place- from them and me!

The most significant change to my mornings is that I will need to take care of anything "me" related the night before. So, things I would normally do in the morning before I left for work- making my lunch, ironing my clothes, eating breakfast- will need to be done before I go to bed at night. I can only hope that cold Pop Tarts taste better served under moonlight.

Realistically, me at 8:00 AM in two weeks

So if it's not abundantly clear, I'm a bit of a basket case. And there are times when I'll be so stressed from trying to balance work, this blog, my podcast, talking to my wife, managing my fantasy football team, checking Facebook, wiping Antonio's orange fingerprints off my dress pants and aiming my urine to the waterless side of the toilet so as not to wake up the kids that I'll *gasp* forget something important. A couple of times I've used the line, "Sorry, in trying to keep up with my two kids, I forgot to groom my chest hair." And inevitably, someone will reply, "That's no excuse, Joe. People manage to do it all the time." And for the record, it's always people who don't have multiple children offering this sage advice. Some say don't judge a man until you've walked a mile in his shoes. Well I just say keep your fucking mouth shut, you naive ignoramus. Same message, really.

It's kind of like basketball. When you have one kid, you can double team him. When you have two, you play man-t0-man coverage. When you have more than two, you switch to a zone defense until you blow your brains out. With that philosophy in mind, I'm often asked by my wife to "pick my poison," or at least that's how I hear it- meaning, select which kid you want to be chained to for the night. And the decision I make depends largely on how lazy I'm feeling. If I've just had a double shot of espresso, I'll try my luck with Antonio and inevitably end up wrestling with him until I catch an inadvertent (or totally intentional) knee to the balls. If I'm feeling as unmotivated as I usually am, I'll choose Nate, where my only real job is to hold a bottle in place and occasionally make a ridiculous "goo goo, ga ga" face (required by law for any parent with an infant). Now that it's football season, I'll be choosing Nate more often than not on the weekends. Since he's not mobile yet, it's great, because I get to kill two birds with one stone- watching my favorite sport and still managing to pawn off my couch potato-ness as responsible parenting. It's a win-win.

Aside from the football-watching time it creates, having a non-speaking child has other benefits too. For instance, they are guaranteed never to verbally prefer the other parent over you. Just last night, I was tucking Antonio in, when I kissed him softly on the cheek, told him I loved him, only to have him smirk and say, "I want mommy." Are you fucking serious? I just told you I loved you! Let's hope he has better bedside manner once he starts dating. But really, Nate is at an age where he eats without complaining, watches what I'm watching on TV without argument, and most importantly, can't run to the bathroom unsupervised and throw my iPod in the toilet. However, once Nate turns one and realizes that his legs can get him places, Sonia and I will both need to waterproof our electronics, because that's a whole new world of scary shit.

Try not to be frightened by all this if you're a parent of one thinking of having a second. The wonderful thing is that my kids will grow up close and (hopefully) will form a bond they might not have if they were further apart in age. The not so wonderful thing is that by the time they've formed this bond I'll have already gone crazy and will be too medicated to enjoy it. But those, my friends, are the pitfalls of parenthood.

Till next time, be strong and stay sane. And as always, thanks for reading. Feel free to share this on any social networking site you frequent as my ultimate goal is to be able to write for a living, with one kid under each arm. Hey, I can dream, can't I? Well, technically, my kids don't let me rest long enough to enter REM sleep and actually dream. Anyway, pray for my soul!

-Joe DeProspero
jdeprospero@gmail.com
Follow me on Twitter @JoeDeProspero
My Podcast: www.courtesyflush.podomatic.com