7 Things I Stopped Doing When I Had My Second Child
When I became a mother for the first time, I was thrust into a new world filled with love and exhaustion. I also felt a certain anxiety that can only be experienced by first-time parents. I hovered. I was overprepared. I googled everything. I listened to the clock as if it had the answers to my life. In short, I am the mum – the textbook example of a hyper-vigilant, cautious first-time parent who is unable to relax in the unpredictable rhythms and challenges of parenting, despite doing her best.
My life changed when I had my second child.
Of course, not all at once. The chaos, love, and exhaustion were still there, but where was the pressure? The pressure grew. Fear? Diminished. What about the doubts that I had when making decisions for my firstborn child? This has mostly faded.
You will notice that something changes with your second baby. You start to let go.
Here are seven things that I stopped doing when I had my second child and some unexpected wisdom I gained from embracing the beautiful, imperfect mess I found myself in as a parent.
1. Bubble Wrapping My Child’s World
When my daughter was born, I was the helicopter parent personified. I was her constant shadow at the playground. I would interfere before she even wobbled on uneven ground. Is a trip to the GP necessary for a mild cold? Absolutely. A suspicious freckle? Get it checked.
I didn’t protect her, I tried to control the uncontrollable. I felt every bump or slip as a failure to protect her. I believed I could protect her if I just stayed one step ahead.
Then came my second child.
She taught me that bruised knees, and even scraped ones, are not only inevitable but essential. These bruises and scrapes were signs of curiosity and courage. I observed her as she learned to balance, instead of trying to stop every fall. I watched her fall and then get back up. I became more of a cheerleader and less of a safety officer.
What’s this? She’s resilient. She’s stronger than I imagined. When children are given space to explore, they will discover their strengths. All they need is the right foundation and a parent who believes in them.
2. The Clock is Always On
The life of my first child was dictated by a rigid schedule. The schedule for my first child was a strict one. Wake windows, naps, and feedings were all documented and timed with the precision of NASA launches. I had apps. Charts. Reminders. If she were 5 minutes late for her nap, I would spiral. If she ate “too soon” or “too later,” I would worry.
It gave me an illusion of control over a world I felt was completely out of my hands. It was tiring, but in truth. Both of us.
When my second child was born, I tore up the routine and threw the rigidity out the window.
I stopped looking at the clock and began watching. I watched for her signals: fatigue, hunger, and overstimulation. She thrived. She slept and ate as she felt hungry. She adjusted to our daily rhythms without rigidity.
The second time around, I found it liberating to learn to let‘s rhythm take over and not force my own.
3. Romanticising Cafe Life
When I had my first child, I tried the “mum in a latte with the sleeping baby in the pram”. It worked for a while. Early weeks of long naps and sleepy feeds in noisy cafes gave a sense that I was back to normal.
Add a toddler into the mix. It’s game over.
My idyllic vision of nursing in peace while sipping coffee quickly changed to a nightmare of spilled babycinos and tantrums over muffin flavors, as well as sprinting to prevent my toddler from licking a cafe window.
We gave up the cafes and instead found new places to relax. Our brunch location became the local park. The picnic rug with a thermos full of tea was much more relaxing than trying to manage two young children in an enclosed space filled with hot drinks and breakable dishes.
Letting go of café culture meant giving up a certain ideal lifestyle — but also embracing a simpler, messier, and, in some ways, more joyous reality.
4. Expecting Sleep and then Being Disappointed
Sleep deprivation can be a form of unspoken psychological warfare. You can usually anticipate rest with one child and cling to it as a lifeline.
Two? Sleeping becomes a brutal game of tag. The toddler will wake up just as the baby is settling down. A nap ends and another begins. Somebody always needs something.
I learned the only way for me to survive is to stop expecting to sleep. Literally.
Instead of stressing about the next nap or counting hours, I adopted a new philosophy. Any Sleep was a Bonus. Is it possible to sleep for ten minutes with my eyes shut on the couch? A win. Three hours of nighttime sleep? It’s a miracle.
My fatigue was less resentful when I let go of my expectations. When I finally got some rest, it was like a present instead of something that I had been unfairly denied.
5. Make Baby Food from Scratch
Everything I cooked for my first baby, I pureed. Pumpkin, pear, quinoa, lentils. I even froze them in colour-coded blocks. It was like having a MasterChef for a child in my kitchen, for a child who had barely eaten solids for several months.
What if it’s the second time? It was just not possible.
With our second child, we went to a full baby-led approach. She ate the same food we did — mashed, chopped, or whole. Bananas, broccoli steamed, and toast pieces. She was having fun, making a mess, and developing a healthy relationship to food right from the beginning.
Even better? Her toddler sister helped. She would give her sister (and playdough sometimes) food, and mealtimes were a chaotic but joyful family affair.
I gained more time, sanity, and connection by letting go of the pressure of preparing “perfect” meals for my baby.
6. Sterilising everything in Sight
My first baby, I sterilized bottles, dummies, and teething toys. Also, the bath, car seat straps, toys for her bath, and bath toys.
My second child was born, and I quickly forgot about it.
The toddler would bring home germs from daycare, care, and the baby would crawl around h, you, licking the floor or the potatoes that were not washed in the pantry. I realize that just, maybe, the world wouldn’t come to an end if I didn’t boil each pacifier.
Guess what? Studying is less sick than her older sibling. It’s funny.
It turns out that a little dirt exposure can help build immunity. Sterilising our children is not the main reason for this. It is to make one feel in control.
So, I relaxed. Sure, I cleaned things. I did not panic when a toy fell. The world became less chaotic, simpler, and less stressful.
7. Sexing (Well, not Right Away)
Realize that sex is difficult with one child. Sex with two children? It turns into a secret military operation.
We had pockets of time to reconnect when we only had one child. We would put her to bed, drink a glass or two of wine, and cuddle up on the couch.
What about a toddler AND a newborn? It’s not so bad.
Sleep schedules often collide. The nap times were rarely in sync. The nap times were never in sync. The physical exhaustion from parenting two young children made intimacy seem like another task on the list.
Yes, the sex has taken a backseat. It’s fine.
It returned. It returned slowly, awkwardly,y and sometimes humorously. In the meantime, we found new ways to communicate. We connected through laughter, eyecontacta,ct on top of dirty dis, and whispered encouragements when both children were crying at 3 am.
Spoiler alert! We now have four daughters. Workedd it out in the end.
Let Go to Make Room for More
I found that parenting my second son was not about doing more but rather doing Less and finding out how much More there is in “less”.
More presence. More flexibility. More laughter. More laughter.
By letting go of the need to be in control of every aspect, I created space for imperfections. I allowed my children and myself to be ourselves.
In retrospect, I do not regret my hypervigilant parenting style with my first child. It was out of love. The desire to do it “right” was the original motivation. But with the second child, you begin to realize that getting it right doesn’t have to be about control.
Connection is key.
If you are expecting your second child (or third, or fourth), I have some advice for you: Breathe. Trust. Let go. You can give more to your family by doing less.
