When my little boy was very new I had a strange moment, sitting with him, his sister playing in the room, I looked at them and thought – in a zombie apocalypse, I would only be able to save one of you. In my defense I was very sleep deprived and hormonal, but seriously, you would probably only be able to save one kid – at best.
Which do you save? The one that is lighter and easier to carry, less wriggly, less likely to remember a time before some scary people ate brains? Or the one that is less fragile, that you have had more time to get attached to, the one that can occasionally follow instructions screamed at them like “Run!”?
There are many things to worry about with a new baby. Cot death, flat heads, car seats, overenthusiastic hugging from older siblings. Me, I worried about which kid I would grab first in the zombie apocalypse. Still, it’s good to have a plan!