Truly it is amazing how very opposite these two kids are.
Firstborn kiddo was ready to go from minute 1. Full of energy. Always loud (to the point of scaring other children). Always alert. Always into everything. A favorite running joke at home: DH comes out of the bedroom, watches his son for a few minutes and says, "What did you feed him?" "Crystal meth," I say.
Eventually, of course, kiddo will start saying that himself and all the other parents will run away when they see us coming.
Now there's new little kiddette, who never met a nap she didn't like. Sometimes the exertion of napping tires her out so much she has to take a nap afterward. Other favorite running joke: Whenever she bothers to ascend into wakefulness, one of us will say to the other, "Look! She has eyes!"
It got to the point, in the hospital, where I made a lactation consultant come to the room and consult because I wasn't sure she was getting enough to eat. I'm thinking now she is, since the little pink newborn outfits fit her now, but I still wake her myself for feedings half the time.
Kiddo never missed a feeding. And four of his favorite words are "breakfast," "lunch," "dinner" and "snack."
Also, kiddette is noisy. She makes more odd sounds in her sleep than an 80-year-old lifetime smoker with a snoring problem. It's like she's making a loud and forceful argument about something or other (health care? the national deficit? who knows). Although occasionally it's just gas.
I think I can pretty well call their teenage years: Kiddo will bust through the door after practice for whatever five sports he'll be playing, eat everything in the fridge and run outside to do laps around the county. Kiddette will stroll in, cellphone attached to ear (and by then I assume we really will be able to attach cellphones to ears), assure us she's not hungry -- again -- and head upstairs, continuing the seven simultaneous conversations she's having while also texting five other people with the second cellphone permanently attached to her hand. And then she'll sleep for 10 hours.
Truly, she's making me nostalgic for my college years, when I'd come home at the end of the semester and sleep for a whole day or so. But that was after a semester of more or less not sleeping.
Which, come to think of it, is more or less what I'm doing now. Minus the beer and 8 a.m. lecture hall classes.
Oh, who am I kidding, peach schnapps and iced tea. I never drank beer in college.