I Need A Second Kid Primer.

I’ve forgotten everything.

With a mere five days to go before we welcome our second kid, I’ve come to the realization that I cannot recall much more than soft, hazy memories of my first days and weeks with Nora Jane. (Okay, sure, perhaps the morphine played a teensy role in that.)

As Nora and I march up the stairs to her tune du jour or bossy edicts of how we should take turns counting, it hits me that I know this stage. Extremely well and without a trace of fogginess. But wasn’t she the little one being questionably swaddled and hovered over as we climbed those same steps not even two years ago?

And what about sleeping? Here is what I know: a gal who falls asleep at 7:30pm like clockwork- don’t hate, it was hard won- and generally sleeps until she decides it’s time to quietly play tea party with her bears. (Wonderfully, this generally coincides with the time I decide to quietly play Make Me Coffee with my Keurig.) So it’s pretty hard to conjure up a recollection of waking every two hours to a rooting maw (my daughter’s) and groggy sleep-speak (my husband’s). But that was definitely my reality for a good stretch of time.

Why can’t I remember how to pump? Or when to introduce solids? And what’s the temperature that, while quite normal for a toddler, necessitates an instant 9-1-1 call for a newborn? (Nora drinks milkshakes, asks for bunny grahams, and frequently has sniffles and coughs that go largely unnoticed. And we all like it that way.)

I really shouldn’t be trusted.

That said, it appears that this kid has chosen his or her parents…and my doctor has definitely chosen the date of arrival…so I suppose I have no choice but to soldier on with my apparent ineptitude.

Hopefully adrenaline, instincts, or some kind of sense-memory will kick in. Or maybe this one will come along with a set of personalized instructions. If all else fails, I can always ask the toddler.

She has lots of ideas.

Image: Keely Flynn