A mother of two, a wife of one and a woman in search of a strong cocktail
Count Your Blessings...
So, in case you didn’t know, I have two Children: Son, who is almost 6 and Daughter, who is 3 and a half. (Going on 13. She’s totally getting her period. I’m sure of it. That would explain so much.) Having two healthy, happy children is a blessing. A huge blessing. Some days I have to remind myself of this as my two little blessings are toying with my mental sanity....and I just repeat to myself...Blessing. Blessing. Blessing. But that being said, they are getting to an age where the light at the end of the tunnel starts to burn your eyes just a teeny tiny little bit. They’re more independent. They can get their own snack. Play by themselves. Brush their own teeth. It’s these little things that make a huge difference in a parent’s life. To not be so needed all the time; not that being needed by a child is a bad thing...it’s just all consuming...and until you start to eek out of those first few years of a child’s life...you don’t realize how needed you were.
This being needed thing has been on my mind lately because it’s no secret to those who know me that I kinda sorta maybe think I possibly maybe kinda want another baby. Maayyybbeee. But, maybe not. Ohhh....babies. They are so sweet. And little. And fresh. Sure, they wake you up a lot, but it’s usually not too complicated to get them to settle down. Feed them. Hold them. Love them. They haven’t learned to use their armpit and hand as a farting machine. In fact, they don’t even think that farts are funny, only that they feel better once they do fart. They haven’t yet learned the sassier side of the English language; don’t know how to talk back; don’t know how to use a black sharpie as a weapon. When a baby cries out, nobody stares at you in judgement; they simply keep oohing and ahhing and, oh, isn’t that baby so cute when he cries? Babies. Are. Wonderful.
But when I think of having another baby, I have such mixed emotions. Of course, I would never regret having a child, but, the third time around, you go in with eyes wide open. The pregnancy. The diapers. The sleep schedule. The breastfeeding. That phase where your back is in constant pain from the hunch of holding little hands as they learn to walk. (But, what a sweet pain it is.) Just thinking about it is kind of exhausting. Do I want to do that again? I think I do. No. I don’t. I’m not sure. Which means the door is open. Unless it’s closed. But there is a crack. Do I slip through the crack or do I just keep peeking in? I mean, The Offspring are doing nothing but getting older, same as their Mama. What would it be like to have two in school and a newborn? Would it be lovely? Would it be more difficult? Do I jump back in? Do I want to do it All.Over.Again? Yes.No.Yes.No.Yes.No.Yes.
Clearly, I’m a very decisive person.
As I look at women with newborn babies, I try to remember that eventually that tiny, little, sweet, babbling baby will learn how to speak. Loudly. And scream NO! while snot and tears collect in a puddle on your freshly laundered shirt. And those first few years of being so needed...they are hard. But they are magical. Most importantly I must remember that watching a child grow is a gift. A privilege. So for now...my two blessings keep me feeling very busy...very tired...but extremely lucky.
And let’s be honest; sometimes I still really...need...my mom. I guess that never really goes away.