Evan is 5 years and 3 months old.

He refuses to let me cut his hair, even though it is getting long and shaggy and gets stuck in his goggles when he tries to swim. Swimming is the only sport or activity he wants to be signed up for, although he said in the fall he’d like to try football.

Evan loves cereal more than any other food. He would rather eat cereal than ice cream or candy or soda or anything else. Sometimes it’s understandable (who doesn’t love Lucky Charms?) but sometimes it’s something really random, like Honey Bunches of Oats. This week it was Cinnamon Toast Crunch, which he had never actually eaten before but INSISTED I buy at the grocery store. He ate 4 bowls between noon and bedtime.

He is a really good helper and will try to do anything you ask, even if he’s not physically capable of doing it. But he is willing to TRY and then ask for help if he needs it. It’s such an amazing grown up skill that even a lot of real grown ups struggle with.

If you ask him to describe himself, he’ll say he’s a ginger and he’s brave.

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Caroline is 3 years and 7 months old.

She thinks all “3”s and “C”s belong to her personally, so when she sees them on signs or in stores she wants to take them home.

All of her toys have basically the same name. Her toy horse is called Horse. Her zebra is named Zebra-Zeeb. A stuffed duck is named Ducky Duck Duck. The only exceptions are her two baby dolls, who are named Baby Memba and Baby Jesus. Obviously.

Caroline calls herself a “curly girl” because people are always commenting on her beautiful hair. Then she finger-twirls her curls because she’s in an invisible contest for the cutest child ever.

Today she told me that “duplicate” is when there is more than one of you, like when you look in the mirror.

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Both children have no fear or strangers or people. They will ask to be friends with anyone and get sad when their “new friends” (aka the girl they met in the waiting room, the bagger at the grocery store, a random guy who held the door at the mall) leave.

They ate 3/4 of a watermelon today. A real full size watermelon.

They are best friends. They often try to kill each other. I hope nothing changes.

I wish there was an easy way to explain how having a second baby is different from having a first baby, but there are SO MANY WAYS I don’t think I can. When people talk about having a second baby, they talking about “doing it again” – “Oh I couldn’t do that all again! The spit up! The diapers! The sleepless nights!” – but they forget that all the OTHER stuff is easier. Yes there is going to be a ton of poop, but you’ve gotten so good at pinning down a squirmy baby while you change them it only ends up on your clothes once a day! Or even less!

I should probably include a disclaimer that my second baby is a much easier baby than my first, but honestly I’m not sure where the line between “easier because she was born more easy-going” and “easier because I treat her differently” falls. It’s like the chicken and the egg, if the chicken is a mother who is often distracted by a toddler licking things he shouldn’t be licking and the egg is a baby who has learned to only scream for attention when she’s about to be eaten by wolves or fall down a well. There is something to be said for nature – Little Evan has some sort of crazy silent, painless reflux that turned him into an 8 pound vomit machine and Caroline has thrown up half a dozen times in her entire life – but the way I nurture her is definitely making a difference.

For example, we are sleep training Caroline, which is something I literally couldn’t even imagine doing with Little Evan. My brain shut down and my head hurt and my boobs tingled just thinking about LEAVING MY BABY alone to cry in the dark. Don’t get me wrong, there were plenty of nights he cried in the crib but it was after HOURS AND HOURS of rocking and nursing and begging and banging my head against the wall wondering why I was such a failure as a mother. It never occurred to me he was just really tired and if I put him down for more than 30 seconds he might fall asleep.

But Caroline has been acting nocturnal and I’ve been totally exhausted and unable to parent my OTHER kid during the day plus I decided it was sort of ridiculous she would ONLY sleep in her baby swing at nine months old. So we put her in the crib. That’s it. She’s fussed a few times, but if I let her roll around and shout indignantly (as opposed to because she is hurt or hungry or needs something) for five minutes she sleeps like, well, a baby. I know the crying won’t kill her because it didn’t kill the first kid. I have tangible proof I am capable of keeping a human being alive despite my mistakes, and that confidence is PRICELESS.

It also works in the other direction – because Caroline takes more hands-on time than Little Evan (except on the days when he’s potty training, which is one of the reasons we haven’t been trying too hard but now that he’s showing a lot of interest we’re going to have to and OMG I AM NOT LOOKING FORWARD TO IT) he has gotten more independent and really improved his communication skills. He’s also more loving and affectionate, which I suspect is because I spend so much time holding the baby he wants some cuddle time of his own. I call that a win-win.

Even when things that worked the first time (ahem, babywearing) don’t work so great with baby #2, I have enough confidence in my own mothering skills to just move on and try something else. It’s making this whole parenting gig much more fun.

I’m assuming the next kid will just be born walking, talking and making my morning coffee.

(p.s. Caroline took 6 steps TWICE on Sunday. Remind me to re-read this post when they start running in opposite directions)