5 Differences You May Find Between Your First Baby And Your Fifth

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Fifth baby? Yeah that peanut butter/nutella/jelly sandwich on the floor? The one with the dog hair stuck on it. I’m sure it’s fine. Hey. They’re eating.

Hey, having a whole other human being to take care of can be daunting. Alright, let’s be honest, it’s terrifying. Mercifully, while having more children increases workload (exponentially I might add), it also increases confidence. Which is good, because you can’t be losing sleep over their IQ forever. That will just diminish your IQ.

My point? Parenting has a way of . . . evolving. And in honor of all the things that fluctuate from first baby to fifth, I present: Five Things Thursday, Multiple Kids Edition.

1. Equipment

When you have your first baby you start preparing early. I mean, you need to plan. The lure of the registry, the shiny accessories, it’s real. You carefully select the most highly rated car seat/stroller/crib/swing/baby carrier/bouncer/high chair/bottles. Nothing less than the best will do.

By baby three, well let’s just say things are a little anticlimactic, at least where furnishings are concerned. Hand me down crib. Check. Who needs a high chair? All the food ends up on the floor anyway. Just cut out the middle man and dump the cheerios on the hardwood. A little dirt never hurt anyone.

2. Food

While we’re talking food . . . Only the finest will do. Every morsel of nourishment that goes into your precious baby’s mouth will be carefully scrutinized. Is is organic? Does it contain any unsatisfactory ingredients? GMO corn? Any saturated fats? And for goodness sake which ONES. It MATTERS. Coconut oil is acceptable. Corn oil? No way. Not a chance. Is it even remotely possible the animal might have ingested an antibiotic at some point during its life? Because no.

Fifth baby? Yeah that peanut butter/nutella/jelly sandwich on the floor? The one with the dog hair stuck on it. I’m sure it’s fine. Hey. They’re eating.

3. Pets

This a little off topic, but worth addressing. Let’s presume for the sake of argument that you have two dogs. Let's say for the sake of the same argument that they are springer spaniels, a breed known to be both alert and affectionate—that’s not really important, except to note specifically that you may have springer spaniels, which is also not important. Anyway, before your first baby arrives, you will fret, worry, ponder, plan. How will the new baby fit into the pack? What if the Dog Babies don’t love the Human Baby? What if they are jealous? They are your first babies after all. I mean, seriously. You’ve devoted your life to these fuzzy friends. You’ll have to introduce the baby very carefully. Use extreme caution. Only allow the dogs to approach the baby under your close supervision.

Fourth baby? We have dogs? Oh, right. Let them in. They can lick this peanut butter/nutella/jelly off the baby’s face. One step closer to bedtime. Amen.

4. Germs

First baby drops pacifier. You immediately retrieve it from the ground and seal it safely in your diaper bag, lest the baby inadvertently come in contact with it, and thus be infected with the plague. When you arrive home from your Kindermusik class, you quickly sterilize it in boiling water. Phew. That was close.

Third baby drops pacifier. You lick it and stick it back in their mouth. Ain’t nobody got time for that nonsense. Also what’s the worst thing on the ground? Seriously.

5. Illness

Did someone mention the plague? The baby has a fever!!1!1 It’s 100.8. CALL THE PEDIATRICIAN. NOW. What if it’s the plague? From the pacifier! I mean, you can never be too cautious. Any sign of illness will send you direct to the doctor. Do not pass Go. Don’t not collect $200. Get thee to the professionals. STAT. Cold cloth to the head. Temps on the hour. Medication administered in precise dosing schedule. DO NOT miss a dose. Ever.

Fourth baby? Are you breathing? Are you bleeding? Is the blood coming from your ears or brain? Is there a bone protruding from your arm? No? You’re fine. Norovirus? Grab the bowl. You’re going to have to barf in the car, kid. We have places to be.

I have six loads of laundry to fold before all the towels are covered in vomit.

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