My wife and I are expecting our second child in the middle of December. We haven't made a big announcement, preferring to tell people as we see them or talk to them. Even now, many of our friends and family will discover this news by reading this column. Sorry about that, folks.

I guess that's the way it is for #2 children. We wouldn't know. Both Barbara and I are first children, and in fact, most of our friends are first children. Even more strange, if our friends are married, they're generally married to first children as well. I'm sure some psychologist somewhere has already identified this phenomenon and explained it, but the best pop rationale I've seen comes from advice columnist Carolyn Hax, who observed recently that "strength attracts strength, weakness attracts weakness." This was her dismissal of "opposites attract," but when you stop to consider the general attributes of first children, well, it makes sense as well.

So what to do for this second impending? Not much as yet. With Max, we worked our butts off. We hired a contractor to replace most of the outside-facing wall in what would become his room, we refinished most of the parts of the house that we'd been avoiding, we went to childbirth classes, programmed a special high-protein diet for Barbara, bought all kinds of furniture and baby accouterments and generally drove ourselves crazy.

Or what we thought was crazy. That term took on a whole new meaning once Max arrived. No sleep, little to eat, schedules and bodies turned upside down. Life has yet to return to normal. In fact, we're finally beginning to realize that this unsettled existence is normal.

But the baby anxiety just isn't there this time. Barbara still has the occasional Coke, and she's definitely not shooting for 100 grams of protein a day--we don't want or need a repeat of the 9 1/2 lb. monster baby. Eight pounds is just as healthy and much easier to manage. In fact, if this baby is smaller, we can use all those newborn clothes that never fit Max.

This baby will sleep in our room. Once our new little one gets the hang of sleeping (mostly) through the night, then she or he will move into Max's room. We're expecting that he'll be a gracious older brother. If not well, he'll become a gracious older brother.

Chances are, though, that he'll fall in love with the baby at first sight. Every Wednesday he spends the morning at the church down the street at a Parents Morning Out program. He spends most of the time taking care of four baby dolls--feeding them, changing them, putting them down for naps, talking to them, etc. He's so animated and enraptured by theses dolls that he's acquired an audience. Two little girls (and sometimes one or more of the little boys) sit back and discuss his parenting performance as if he were on a stage. He, of course, is completely oblivious, wrapped up in his own little world.

At home, he's just as devoted to "Jammie," his doll. He feeds Jammie, he punishes her ("No Jammie, don't throw the book. You go into time out now."), he brings her to me to change her, he admonishes me when I enter his room while she's "sleeping" ("No, Daddy, don't wake Jammie up. She needs her nap."). He's pretty taken with real babies as well. Most of the time he walks up to them and stares, sometimes speaking softly to them or rubbing their hands or feet. He seems to understand that babies need to be treated gently--unlike his friends, with whom he's beginning to get increasingly rough.

And he'll be almost three when the new one arrives, which is old enough to be able to understand a few basics of newborn care and the necessity of being careful with the baby. We haven't yet explained to him that he will have a little brother or sister--we're waiting for next month's ultrasound so that we can be specific about which it will be--but we have broached the subject of a younger sibling with him. He's decided he wants a little sister--who is a boy.

Transgender issues aside, that seems like a most promising attitude. I think that Max will resent losing some attention, but he's already pulling away from us in significant ways. We've now entered the "pants off most of the time" stage of potty training, a regimen he instituted himself. He'll rip off his pants and diaper and then try to pee. If he fails, he'll just shut his door and run around his room sans bottoms. Whenever I try to go in, he says, "No Daddy, I have to pee. You go work." And then he slams the door shut.

Indeed, much of his play these days is by himself or with other kids. Last night he ran around in the center field grass at a Durham Bulls game with Shr-Hua, a boy who will be two in a couple weeks. As younger children often do, Shr-Hua ran behind Max and copied every little motion. This game successfully occupied the boys for almost an hour. It wasn't parallel play. They were talking to each other and paying attention to each other. Every once in a while Max would run over to an adult, but that was attention on his terms. Once acknowledged, he ran off again, Shr-Hua in tow.

All this talk about Max illustrates the difference between #1 and #2. The first child is all about the changes the parents are about to go through. The second child seems to be mostly about the changes the first child will experience. We're not terribly worried about us, though I have to admit that taking care of two kids whose schedules aren't necessarily in synch will be more difficult than dealing with the mania of an almost 2 1/2 year-old. Still, I have a feeling I can handle it. I just won't sleep so much. What else is new?

Last summer, my grandma told us one child is a blessing, two are nice, three are great and four make you feel like a family (she herself had four kids). Or something like that. I'm pretty sure we won't end up with four (or more?!?). Of course, Barbara has always talked about stopping at two, but on those rare occasions when Max is a shiny, perfect child she occasionally mentions the possibility of three. Maybe #2 will cure that notion. Who knows? When you're talking about kids, something new comes up every single day.

Jon Worley is pondering what sort of beer to make to celebrate the arrival of the child-to-be.