Boyz in the House, Part 2

From the very start, Andrew has needed more attention than his brother. The main problem was that, after he was about three months old, Andy seemed to become grumpier and grumpier for no apparent reason. Nothing we tried seemed to help, and by the time he was about six months old, we were at the end of our rope.

No matter what we tried, he seemed less and less happy. He cried when he laid down. He cried when he was sitting in the swing. He cried when we carried him. He cried when he ate. The most he ever seemed to be happy was a few mintues at a time, but there was nothing discernibly wrong with him.

I was to sing in a friend's wedding, and the pre-wedding dinner had been a disaster for me and Chris. Andrew had cried on the trip to dinner, he had cried for the entire dinner, and he was crying even more loudly as we drove to the wedding itse;f. By now, I was crying. In desperation, I searched for a friend of ours who is a chiropractor and asked whether he could please look at Andy.

I was inspired to do this because from the time I was born until I was six weeks old, I had cried pretty much nonstop, according to my mother. By chance, a chiropractor heard my parents' story and adjusted my back and neck. My mother says that I fell asleep on the man's shoulder and slept for that entire night. It seemed too much of a coincidence that this could be Andrew's problem, but I didn't know what else to do.

After the service, the chiropractor and I took Andrew to the nursery of the church and, with Andy on my lap, the doc proceeded to adjust his back with two fingers, and then did the same to his neck. And here is the miraculous part. Andrew didn't cry again the entire night. Not while we ate, or when we danced, or when we held him, or when he sat in the car. For the first time in months, he cooed. In the days following, it was as though I had swapped babies with someone else. He laughed, he smiled, he sat up. Since then, Andrew has always been more sensitive to mood changes than Steven, but never again has he been so unhappy.

I am now a believer that boys are, indeed, different from girls. These guys do things that my sister and I never thought of when I was growing up. The main difference seems to be that they spend a great portion of their time either trying to kill themselves or each other. Sometimes I feel like I spend most of my time pulling them apart. But no matter how intense the argument, they can go from enemies to best friends within five minutes' time.

It is fun to see how different the two are, and to try to pick out things that are like me or like Chris. At first, it seemed that Andrew was the spitting image of Daddy and Steven of me, but we have discovered that each of them is a great mix of our personalities. It is true, though, that Steven very closely resembles my childhood pictures, and Andrew looks just like his father did when he was very young.

Our parenthood has definitely been helped a lot by the support of our network of family and friends, most notably Chris' parents, his sister Joy and her husband Chris, and my good friends Sue Peine and Jordan Love. Mom, Dad, Joy, and Chris Wilson have been so helpful by babysitting and also with their generosity and their help when we are all together. Especially since I no longer live near my mom, my mother-in-law's advice and guidance, as well as her listening ears, have been invaluable. Sue Peine has helped by reminding me that other mothers have been through this and that, eventually, what I am doing to raise them will make a difference. And Jordan has helped by being one of the few old friends I have that is as comfortable discussing my lousy day with the kids as she is current events or culture. I have my best phone conversations with her!