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No, Really, Give it to Me Straight
I'm pretty good about horror stories, which is why I got to hear every scare story about pregnancy, childbirth and childhood that every friend, and some people who aren't friends cared to report. I even have a couple of my own. It just never occurred to me to stop my ears, claiming to be a delicate flower who could be tainted by the knowledge that something horrible could happen.
With or without children there's always ample chance of that.
But there is something odd about being noticeably pregnant with a toddler lurking that makes people so gleeful about your impending misery. If they were novel or amusing, I'd write down all the stories about how the second child is inevitably a Holy Terror or how the delicate balance of the universe was ruined by the arrival of the youngest. Someone I ran into who has two at the delicate ages of going-on-three and soon-to-be-five commented: "If they were both like the second one, I would find a way to work 24 hours a day and never ever go home."
I see there's even a new horror movie seeking distribution and accolades at this year's Sundance Film Festival about a New York City family thrown into terror after the arrival of a second child (from the director of Hell House).
And here I was thinking I wasn't doing anything particularly unusual when it is really Rosemary's Baby redux.
I guess I'll just have to start a stash of holy water.
posted by Elise at 3:45 AM
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