When I was pregnant and full of angst and in therapy (in case you missed the “fun” check here, and here , and here) one of the issues I struggled over was what I was “doing” to my toddler by having a baby. It just seemed so unfair to bring this creature home who would get all the attention and deprive Penny of her place in the world . I worried, as many 2nd time parents do, that I was hurting my firstborn by foisting a sibling on her. I had this almost cinematic vision of Louis and I rushing hither and thither to fuss over the baby all while Penny, stuck in some dark corner in the same dress she’d been wearing for 3 days, tried desperately to get us to notice her.

According to my therapist this is a uniquely western concern. Other cultures view bringing a sibling home as a great gift to their firstborn. It’s such a beautiful thing, my therapist and mom of two told me, to watch your children fall in love.

You are a pro! You can handle most every illness your kid comes down with by now (once they turn one, that is). You have tricks for keeping them hydrated. You know how to get them to puke in a bowl. And you’re not so traumatized by their moans and glassy doe eyes because you’ve discovered the Sesame Street video queues and that cute Canadian cartoon, Caillou.