Confessions of a two kid mom

Well,  Baby 2 is here. She's almost seven weeks old and growing like crazy. She is definitely a bigger baby than her sister was at this age. She came out with a bit of surgical assistance after refusing to budge. We named her Violet Quinn and I couldn't be happier with our pick. Now to get real:

In caring for this new little bundle, I have realized something. I don't like babies. They cry and they don't sleep, so you don't sleep. They are totally helpless and completely dependent on you for every little thing. I need some time to myself and when you are caring for a newborn, you get none. It's hard, really hard. I'm just holding on for the days to come - the day when she can hold up her own head, sit up on her own, ride in the shopping cart. The day she can crawl. The day she can actually emote real feelings.

I find myself alternating between blissful happiness that she's here and confusion as to why I thought having another child was so damn important. Our little family of three has been upended by this little "miracle" and the adjustment was/is tougher than I ever thought it would be. Isabel was a terror the first three weeks, throwing tantrums and screaming when she didn't get what she wanted exactly when and how she wanted it. Violet was a terror on the breast, demanding more and more and more milk all the time, rarely giving me a chance to get a drink and rehydrate myself. 

Now it's been seven weeks and we're slowly crawling out from the hole of newborn care. I'm trying to get to know my new girl. She's happy. She wants for nothing but a clean diaper and a breast full of milk. Time will tell if she will allow her big sister to take control or if she will have a stubborn streak of her own. For now, I take it one day at a time.