I recently gave birth to my second child in two years (also a boy). While pregnancy with a toddler in my life was pretty difficult, I was looking forward to that honeymoon phase that happens after the baby is born. You know, the one in which my sole job is to nurse the baby, take care of him and bond. There would be plenty of people around to take care of me, to do the chores and make sure we eat. At least a few weeks of pure love and lots of napping.

That’s how I remembered it. But you know how they say that women instantly forget how painful labor is so that they will eventually have additional children? It’s the same way with the first few weeks postpartum. It’s not nearly as peaceful as I recall. (I guess I’ve been ignoring all the desperate, sleep-deprived journal entries I made at the time. Plus, I have a toddler around that I didn’t have before.)

At first it really wasn’t so bad. The baby slept almost around the clock for a week. I was beginning to think that my prayers had been answered, and I got a quiet second baby. I had feared that like most of the second kids I’ve seen around me, ours would turn out to be a terror. But a few days into his life, I thought “I can get used to this.” He didn’t really cry that much, he nursed well, and he settled down to sleep quite easily.

And then we hit week 2: The Hungry Phase, in which the newborn nurses every two hours, except at night when he would sometimes go every two and a half hours. Whew, thanks for the break, kid. If he wasn’t nursing or sleeping, he was crying. And when the newborn cried, the toddler had to chime in. He has recently taken up the entertaining hobby of Whining. Since he doesn’t have a day job, he has lots of time for this hobby, and he works on his craft day in and day out.

After week 3 my supporting cast left — my parents who had stayed with us and taken care of everything had to go back to their real lives. My husband had to go back to work. I was left with 2 demanding children, an empty fridge, and The Great Laundry Mountain of 2007. Even if I do one load of laundry per day, that would be like paying the minimum balance on my credit card every month. It would take me 30 years to pay down the principal. Meanwhile, we would have no clean clothes.

I had to develop survival tactics. I put doorknob covers on all the doors so that the toddler could not go out of my sight when I was trapped on the couch, breastfeeding the baby. I scheduled a playdate for every day that the toddler was home with me. I put him in daycare three days a week. I roped my mommy friends into making meals for my family.

But more importantly, I lowered my expectations. So what if everything in my house is covered in dog hair? At least every seat is soft. So what if the only clean clothes I have are college-logo T-shirts and pajama bottoms? At least I’m always dressed comfortably. Meals are often limited to something I can peel open and eat — like bananas, or yogurt, or chocolate lollipops. But hey, at least we are eating!

I usually only have serious trouble when I haven’t slept much (which is almost every day) and the two kids are going at it all at once. One day I was trying to calm the baby down by putting him in the swing, which he hates. Not sure why I was using that, but hey, I was tired. He was crying that special baby scream-cry and he would calm down for a second if I gave him a pacifier. Good. Then I would run to the toddler to help him brush his teeth. Then the baby would lose the pacifier so I would run back to him. Then the toddler would drop his toothbrush and yell “Mommy! Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!” So back to the toddler I go. Baby screams. Back to the baby. “Mommy! Mommy!” Back to the toddler. And so on until I finally give up and put the TV on so I can occupy the toddler while I calm the baby down. (Come on, you know you’ve done it, too.)

I even had at least one full-fledged Calgon moment. One afternoon, as both boys were napping, I settled down for a nap myself. Okay, I collapsed on the couch and passed out. Just then, there was a knock at the door. The dog went insane with excitement (there’s someone at the door! There’s never someone at the door!) and the cat ran streaking through the house. The toddler woke up, the baby woke up, and both of them started crying at the same time. And then, I swear this is true, the phone rang. I didn’t think that really happened to people. I think I blacked out, because I’m not sure what happened after that.

The baby is almost two months old now. W’’re still in the Hungry Phase, but about a week ago, he must have sensed my fatigue and frustration, because one early morning when I was changing his diaper, he made some magic. He smiled. It was a real, honest-and-for-true smile that made his whole face light up and my insides melt. That smile made all of those late-night moments when I cried, “What have I done?” disappear.

Around the same time, the toddler learned how to say “I love you, Mommy.” Only it comes out: “Ahluffyou, Mommy.” Sickeningly cute and totally irresistible, no matter how much he’s tried my patience. If only the baby’s smile could make the toddler stop whining, then it would truly be magic.

– Kim Tracy Prince

Kim is the loving mother of a very energetic toddler and newborn baby boy. She has worked on the hit show, “Bringing Home Baby.” Have a comment for our very blunt Mama? kim@themommytimes.com