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It was with grudging horror I accepted some hand-me-downs for my first son.  Prior to his birth, I recall sorting through the piles of "loaned" clothes trying to picture putting my pristine infant into something that has a thread hanging or slight pilling of fabric or heavens forbid, no designer label.  99.999% of these went back into the bag from whence they came. 

Even toys, with their slight scuff marks or two year old technology, were rarely acceptable.  Ironically one of the items I did accept from a neighbor, a red riding truck, is to this day, one of his favorite toys.  Still, in most cases, I just couldn't contemplate contaminating my child with anything other than factory-sealed, sparkling new toys.

Wow, do things change with #2.   This time, I'd accept girl hand-me-downs if it saved me from buying clothes that would be in use for three weeks, tops.  I have sadly bought only one outfit for my new son-to-be, even though his brother was born in the dead of winter and was swaddled in thermal-everything.  I'm holding out hope that someone will drop off some summer infant clothes by July.  If not, I have reasoned, kids mostly wear those onesies anyway.  I have tons of those, and I bet with bleach I can get the stains out, mostly.

And as for toys, if anyone dreams of bringing another toy into this house, they will be required to build me a storage unit in my backyard before leaving.  If Jack's old toy is already broken, that's ok, it will probably stimulate the new one's imagination by having to find a new way to use it.   I'm even ok that his crib mobile, with the plastic straps that tore off the back, dangles off the crib rail hanging by an old mountain climbing clasp.

Sometimes I feel bad for this new baby, lacking the pomp and circumstance of the first.  But then again, I was a second child and I survived.