She's a Firecracker

According to the Good Mommies, I am not supposed to compare my children because it may damage their Self Esteem. Not one to pass up on a sure opportunity for dysfunction, I have made a list:

1. On his birthday, Thing One wedged himself between two ribs during birth and stayed there for 2 1/2 hours, possibly waiting for the swearing to be over. Thing Two, on the other hand, tied herself in a great big knot and then hit the gas as soon as Daddy went to the cafeteria. (Nurse: "Do you think he will freak out if we page him?" Me: "Um, yeeeaaahhh.") 15 minutes later (Daddy made it) we had our girl.

2. At five months, Thing One looked like a white Don King. Thing Two looks like Mr Clean.

3. Thing One has a college fund. Thing Two has a brother with a college fund.

4. Thing One is about as laid back as they get. When all of my other friends' toddlers were flopping like croppies on the floor and screaming, I would think--wow--I'm glad my kid doesn't do that stuff. Then Thing Two was born. Maybe that's how she tied herself in a knot. Flopping like a croppie and screaming bloody murder inside my tummy.

5. Thing One is very much like his father-as I said, mellow, laid back, and about as friendly as they come. Thing Two, apparently, is a lot like me. Hence Daddy's smug grin when she bites down with all her might on my nipple after draining me--he likes to think of it as Karma.

6. Thing One was born with a penis, which came equipped with the creepy ability to identify makes and models of cars at the tender age of two. Thing Two was born with a Bugina, which came equipped with a Super Duper Mommy Confidence Shrinker--the model with the Handy Dandy Scream Amplifier.

7. My mothering in Thing One's first year was guided by parenting books and instinct (parental). So far, Thing Two's first year has been guided by criminal profiling books and instinct (fear).

8. Thing One had a bath every other day. Thing Two gets a bath when I think people might notice the toe jams. On her cheeks.

My mommy friends used to be a little envious of me, I think. I mean, when they ask you if your baby sleeps through the night, why wouldn't you answer, "Uh huh, he sleeps twelve hours. From 5:30 to 5:30. It's kind of hard on us, though, because we can't really take him anywhere."

Now my friends just laugh at me. Not with me. Cuz I'm not laughin'. I'm usually crying. You just can't hear me over the girl-screams.