The Bug, Part 4
Wednesday, August 19th, 2009The third in an occasional series: whether to have more kids after multiples. [Part 1; Part 2; Part 3]
The weirdest part about considering whether or not to have more kids is that I seem to lean in favor of it during phases when my kids are particularly challenging. Am I a glutton for punishment or what? Maybe it’s because, when the kids are particularly awesome, it’s hard to imagine going backwards to the hard parts. And maybe, when they’re being a handful, I’m waxing nostalgic for the days without mobility and opinions. Who knows.
But somehow, I’m sort of leaning in favor of the idea at the moment. Have not taken any steps toward it, so this isn’t any kind of “announcement.” Just continued musing on which way the wind is currently blowing. And despite this parenting thing being crazy hard, despite imagining how exhausting it would be to be pregnant while chasing around a couple of toddlers, despite relishing how much sleep I am able to get these days… I’m still considering it.
There’s no real reason to have a third kid, especially in this day and age. Even having two, to theoretically “replace” yourself and your spouse, doesn’t really make logical sense as any kind of biological necessity in the age of overpopulation. No, submitting this decision to logical reasoning will get you absolutely nowhere. It’s really only a question of desire. There’s an aspect of resources and logistics, sure, but it’s mostly a question of whether or not you “want” to have more kids.
A lot of my desire for a third isn’t necessarily about that new little person. In a sense, how could it be? I don’t know who they’d be, what they’d be like. A lot of it has to do with wanting the chance to be a second-time mom. A chance to do it over with the slight amount of confidence you’d get from having done it before.
And today, I had the teeniest of previews of life with three kids. A friend was visiting with her newborn and had to leave the house for a few hours. Of course, the little one slept the first hour and a half, and shortly after she woke up, another friend (and her 10-month-old) arrived. Plus, of course, I hadn’t been up in the middle of the night prior to my time with her. Still, though, I got a glimpse of the juggling act and could sort of imagine the craziness that would be life with a newborn and toddlers (well, figure, preschoolers by the time I’d have a kid). And you know what… yeah, totally bit by the bug. For as much newborns don’t really do anything, I am finding myself strangely drawn to it.
The weird thing is that I’m really not a newborn person. I don’t automatically go all googly-eyed when I see a new baby. I mean, I do the perfunctory “oh, how sweet!” but that’s about it. They’re cute and all, but I don’t go nuts. And yet, here I am… drawn to it. (The beyond-adorable 10-month-old who joined the party was a big draw, too.)
What do you think? Are you the kind of person who melts into a puddle of goo whenever you see a little baby? Or is it something else that gets you waxing nostalgic and thinking… “maybe, just one more…”?













