When my husband and I decided to start a family, we agreed right off the bat to space our children close together. It was mainly a matter of age: we had left the child-rearing stage of life a little later than some, and we didn’t want to be changing diapers in our 40s. We felt it was the only suitable option, but we debated the pros and cons nonetheless. We discussed our own childhood situations, and those of people we’d known growing up. Would a bigger age gap between children make a close sibling relationship less likely? Would siblings close in age be best friends or bitter rivals?
Naively, perhaps, we didn’t really give much thought to the logistics of parenting two small children at once. Our kids are 23 months apart. The first month verged on a nightmare. My 2-year-old son absolutely adored his baby sister, but had an extremely difficult time adjusting to the change in family dynamic. Between 24-hour newborn care and what felt like 24-hour toddler tantrums, we nearly lost our minds. Thankfully, just as my midwife promised, toddler memories are short, and after the longest, haziest four weeks of my life it was as if he’d always been an older brother. The next 12 months continued to be trying, though. Trying to get two small children ready and out the door to go anywhere in the bitter Northern winter was a monumental task. Forget sleeping; they never napped at the same time, and the baby was a night owl for the first six months. In retrospect, potty training a toddler while breastfeeding an infant every two hours may not have been the best idea.
When my youngest was nearly a year old, we encountered another mother with her kids at the park. Her children were 2 and 4, respectively a year older than mine. She smiled knowingly and told me that the first year was really hard, but the payoff in the end was worth it. And sure enough, a month or so later my daughter was walking and talking, gaining a little independence, and able to play with her brother. They’ve been inseparable ever since. I can cook dinner or talk on the phone without constant interruptions and demands for attention, because they entertain each other. Dropping my daughter off with a babysitter is no problem as long as her big brother is there. And nothing brings me pure joy like hearing my two children, now 2 and 4, giggling insanely together, or seeing them cuddled on the couch in front of morning cartoons, arms around each other.
I know that every child is different and every family is different, and that what worked for us won’t necessarily apply to anyone else. I also know that my children are still young; there are many ages and stages to get through yet, and they may not always be this enamored of each other. For the time being, however, not a day goes by that my husband don’t enjoy our children enjoying each other, look at each other smugly and congratulate each other on our wise decision.
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