I really didn't know what to expect when my son Sam was born. There wasn't anywhere near the drama engendered by the lengthy labor and birth of our first son Max, and this time around, we also knew Sam would be Sam. Or Oscar. A boy, in any case.

And so, when Sam plopped out on the second push, I hesitatingly exclaimed, "It's...a baby!"

I might as well call the engravers now; Barbara swears "It's a...baby!" will be my epitaph.

I would have said, "It's Sam!," but we didn't know what we were going to name the boy. In fact we waited to turn in the naming papers until a few minutes before we left the hospital. Barbara really liked Oscar. No one else did. And anyway, as plenty of people have pointed out, Sam looks like a Sam.

If you've never had a kid, you probably won't understand what that means. And really, that's just fine.

But as Barbara and I were both oldest children, we didn't know what to make of a second child. Our younger siblings (or, in my case, my oldest younger sibling) were born before we could remember what it was like to be an only child (she was 15 months old, and I was 21 month old), we didn't have a clue what to expect from Max. We certainly didn't know how we were going to dole out all the necessary parental love and affection and attention and all.

Funny thing. All that sorta comes naturally. Once you've bonded and all, anyway. In truth, Barbara and I are pretty lucky. We've bonded with our kids within hours, if not days. I know parents who didn't really feel that deep, parental love for weeks or even months. I mean no criticism of these folks--bonding is a tricky thing, and it varies more from child to child than parent to parent. In other words, you can instantly bond with your first and then spend relative ages getting tight with your second. Or vice versa.

But Sam was an instant charmer. He didn't have Max's intense gaze and astonishing attention span, but he did (and still does) have a bubbly personality that is pretty damned charming.

Indeed, Sam and Max are almost as palindromic in personality as they are in name. They're both extremely inquisitive, but in most other respects they interact with the world in completely different ways.

This is one danger I've noticed with second kids: You can get stuck in a rut of simply comparing #2 to #1 (or vice versa) without considering the second child on his own merits. This is, I think, not a good thing.

Luckily, I haven't found it all that difficult to relate to Sam on his own terms. He's a jolly baby, willing to whip out a smile on a second's notice. This is in stark contrast to Max as a baby...wait, strike that.

Anyway, Sam has been a good sleeper since birth, and this weekend, he slept from seven or eight at night until Max dashed into our room at six in the morning. If he's slept well, Sam generally wakes up in a most congenial mood. He hasn't actually laughed much--in fact, the only person he's laughed for is Barbara's mom--but he has a number of contented coos and gurgles. He has different smiles for Barbara, Max and me--and in the case of Max, Sam's smile is combined with a look of abject adoration that is far beyond anything he's fixed upon either of his parents. Indeed, there appears to be nothing better in the world than receiving attention from his older brother.

And Max couldn't be happier to oblige. He's had some difficulty adjusting to the slackening of attention, but in truth, Max has always been an independent child. And as far as Sam goes, there's nothing but joy--unless the baby is crying. But since Sam rarely cries--though his peals are shockingly grating and intense--that's not a big problem.

I'm a stay-at-home dad, but that doesn't make me a baby person. I'm much more comfortable hanging out and talking with Max than sitting with Sam and playing mind-numbing games. Smiles are nice, but they can get old after a few minutes. As my dad has observed from time to time, kids get more interesting the older they get. They may not get cuter, but they certainly are more intriguing as people.

Anyway, what I'm really trying to say here is that even my slightly baby-phobic personality has been charmed by the second #2 in my life (my middle brother Matt being the first). I've found it easy to love the boy on his own merits, without lessening my affection for Max. As I (and countless others) have noted before, children seem to have something of a multiplier effect on love. There's no subtraction involved. Not for me, anyway.

As for figuring out the whole two-kid thing, I'm miles away. I'm sleeping less, crabby more and incoherent most of the time. To express it as an equation, Max+Sam=sleep-3 hours.

I can live with that. Of course, I simply don't know any better.

Jon Worley's wife goes back to work this week, which means he'd better figure all this out pretty damned fast.