Everything is so different for the second child - I never realized how jipped I was by not being first. For example - last night James had his first real food (other than the twizzler my mom gave him to suck on while she was here - bad bad grandma - and the piece of pineapple that he devoured the night before at dinner because he whined until we finally gave him something). When Ian had his first food it was this huge ceremony - he wore a cute shirt for the pictures and a new bib and we documented every breath - let alone bite - he took for the first ten minutes. I had brand new baby spoons and bowls and made sure I read the directions 10 times on the rice cereal box. We were thrilled that he was getting big enough to eat real food.
Fast forward to James - he has been begging for real food for a month now (he turns 6 months in a week) and I have been avoiding it because it takes so much longer than nursing him. After another night of whining through dinner, on a whim, on his way to bed, I figured we would try out some rice cereal. I didn't even put him in the chair or give him a bib (which I did end up regretting) and I haven't found Ian's baby spoons yet so I used a dessert spoon. I gave him a few test bites before I even called Curt over to go get the camera.
It doesn't mean I love him any less. I guess what I enjoy more this time around is the interaction I see between Ian and James, and the moments when I appreciate the stage he is in now instead of always anticipating what he will learn next. I feel like James is a much less demanding child - but maybe I am just a different mom.