Invisible Friend

My son is speaking to ghosts. That was my first thought when my 5 year-old came tattle-telling to me that his “friend” had pushed him and called him a baby. There was no one in the house but me, my son, and my 9 month-old daughter who certainly could not push him let alone verbally insult him. I calmly asked Connor, “What friend are you talking about?” fearing that he would respond with, “I see dead people.” However, when my son told me that he had a friend named “Froop” I knew immediately that this was an imaginary friend we were dealing with. Only in the fertile mind of my son could a name like Froop exist. This friend has suddenly materialized and become a constant companion in the span of a week. Connor has even taken Froop to school. His teacher laughingly told me that Connor had been searching high and low for a toy and wouldn’t leave until he found it. When the teacher asked what a Froop was, he told her impatiently, “It’s a boy!”
Apparently Froop is a bit of a thug because he tells Connor to take toys from his sister, grab the dog’s tail and watch her squirm, and not eat his supper. After putting Connor in time-out for an offense he blamed on Froop, I said, “Well Froop’s going to time-out too!” to which Connor responded, “Froop said that’s not going to work for him.”
I’m assuming Froop is a derivative of Connor’s favorite cereal (Fruit Loops) and that my son has invented an imaginary playmate for extra attention and to have someone to play with. I hear that imaginary friends are fairly typical for kids this age and that it indicates that the child has a creative imagination. I’m still unsettled by this whole thing. When I hear my son talking to his friend, I wonder if he’s got some kind of early-onset psychosis. And even though I’m leery about the possibility of ghosts, I get the willies sometimes. I guess I’ll just have to let this phase run it’s course, or if it gets out of hand, Froop may have to be relocated to another home!

Whoever said having 2 children was easier than 1 was heavily sedated

While awaiting the arrival of my second child, friends, family members and well-meaning strangers assured me that having one child was more difficult than having two. I was thrilled! I was managing nicely with my 4 year-old son, Connor, so when I heard this I thought, "Wow...I'm going to ROCK as a mother now!" (Oh, those pregnancy horomones were powerful.) Now I realize I've been duped.

In theory, this little ism seems logical. After all, if you already have one child, you've been through the ropes and earned your stripes. You know what to expect. And if your child is of the proper age, you can score a little help entertaining, feeding, and changing the new baby. Throughout my pregnancy, I quelled my fears of having another child with the reassurance that two kids are better than one.

The first week home with the new baby, I was ready to call up everyone who lied to me and scream profanaties at them. I was soooooo overwhelmed with the realization that I HAVE TWO CHILDREN THAT DEPEND COMPLETELY ON ME. No matter how awful I was feeling while recovering from childbirth, no matter how sleep-deprived I was, I had to suck it up. The advice, "sleep when the baby sleeps" no longer applies when you have a toddler that is up during the day and needs constant care and attention. For some reason, I didn't think that through while I was pregnant. By the second week, I was panicing. I considered claiming postpartum depression so I could recruit more help from my husband and catch a little shut-eye.

It was then that I realized that the people who said having two kids was a walk in the park must have been so sleep-deprived they were delirious, or they were heavily medicated. Or perhaps they were out-right lying to lull me into a false sense of security. Out of all the people I know, only two actually told me the truth. They said that you could not be considered a mother until you had two kids. At the time I dismissed them as party-poopers trying to rain on my perfect family parade-but they were right.

I have now survived the sleepless newborn nights and my nine-month old daughter is becoming more indepedent. Her brother is her best friend and thankfully I am able to do chores while my son entertains her in his playroom, but it's still harder than I thought it would be. I was a good mother before I had my second child, but I'm better now. No matter how hard the job is, mothers always find a way to adapt and overcome!