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On Having Two Kids

 Some friends are planning on, or moving toward, a second child, and here is my letter to those friends.


I can't generalize, but I think that having two children means that you almost never leave the house with all the supplies you need. I'm routinely stunned to discover that a crucial--THE crucial--supply is still back on my desk, on the second floor. That supply could be: the zoo pass, the functional car key, the speech-and-communication notebook, the driver ID, the cell phone. I think, once you accept that you will always be unprepared, the actual moment of discovery ("God damn it!") is a bit less irritating.

It seems to help me to "draft" various events, in my head. If there is a doctor visit, I try to envision my own behaviors before they happen. So, if the visit falls apart, I may have choices to fall back on. I understand, more and more, that parenting is about "making implicit things explicit," and I'm surprised how hard this is. For example, if my child needs a shot, I sometimes catch myself expecting my child to "go with the flow." If I explain, "This will hurt a bit, but it's to keep you healthy," this can work wonders. It can work wonders for ME, at least, because a part of me seems to believe (still) that doctor visits are pointless exercises in self-torture.

The last thing I'd say about the two-kid experience is from a Harlan Coben novel, "Tell No One." In this novel, a worried family visits a pediatrician. The kid's behavior is erratic -- should forceful interventions occur? Is there useful homework? Some kind of grueling regimen that could correct all problems? And the pediatrician basically says, "There's nothing wrong with your kid, but she seems a bit stressed. I recommend French fries, and many, many hours of television." I think that's good advice. Allow yourself to get a "B," or even a "B-minus," now and then. It's good for your family, and it's surely good for your child.

That's all that is on my mind.
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