Man, Woman and Child's Best Friend/Child/Sibling/Nuisance

Every once in a while someone asks when we'll have a second child. I always think, a) This is a weird conversation to be having, and b) for all intents and purposes, I already have two children. One baby I carried in my womb, birthed, and nursed, the other I got for $500 plus the cost of dog food, because he's a dog. While the arrival of the dog to our family was certainly easier than the delivery of the baby, it's neck and neck when it comes to which of the small creatures is currently more demanding of my time and energy.

Let's  take crying, for instance. One of my children cries way more than the other, and it's not my biological offspring. Ivy only cries when she's exhausted or when she's fallen down. Ollie cries when he wants a treat. Ollie cries when he's bored. Ollie cries when I leave the apartment, even if it's for thirty seconds while I take out the garbage. The crying is so bad and so loud and so annoying to neighbors, that I literally have to take him everywhere with me. And since Target, the one place I go on a regular basis, has a pretty strict no animal policy, and since we're all aware of the dangers of leaving a dog in the car for any extended amount of time, I have started setting land speed errand running records.

Ivy eats a little bit and really doesn't seem to have a need or want for food. Ollie, on the other hand, goes bonkers every time he hears the fridge open or a food package rustle. He once sat and cried for five minutes while I chopped an onion until I finally gave him a piece that he somehow managed to choke down, too prideful to admit it wasn't very tasty.

Ivy is incredibly efficient at waste excretion. Ollie is not. Ollie takes five laps around the courtyard, sniffing every leaf, pebble and sprinkler head before finding a plot of ground worthy of his urine. On average, it's a twenty minute process. There's an additional five minutes if it's a pooping venture.

Ivy plays well with others. Ollie tries to to rupture the ear drums of all house guests. Any time the door bell rings, it's doggy DEFCON 5 -- Ollie loses it. He barks, jumps, growls, and generally freaks out until scolded repeatedly and ultimately distracted with a bribe.

Ivy likes to join me in activities. Like this morning while I was doing Insanity, she jumped and stretched along side. Ollie cried and then sat on my stomach.

But. Ollie lets Ivy pull his ears. He lays outside her bedroom door when she's sleeping. He marches to her crib every morning to greet her. He comes every time she calls, "Ollie!" He kisses her face at every opportunity. They spend every waking moment together.

"I'm glad my kids have siblings so they can play together," is usually what the would-be family planner concludes the conversation with. "I am too," I think.