Shit’s about to get real repetitive up in here. I apologize in advance. But this is what my brain is right now and I really need somewhere to puke it all up so I don’t drown between this rock and hard place in my mind.
Oh, I know, I’m being a little over dramatic. It’s not that serious right? Or is it?
I’m here on my day off, once again trying to figure out our vacation plans and semi-frozen by indecision and uncertainty. I HATE living in limbo, I HATE not having a concrete plan. Mostly I hate not knowing the future. How dare God not give me the ability to see the future? Ugh.
T has been all about wanting a baby sister and then this morning he was like, actually I’d rather have a hamster. I mean, he’s four, so sure why not, but I think on some level Paul and I have been thinking, okay we’ll try for a baby only because T seems to want a sibling. But if he’d rather have a hamster, then what?!? And yes, I realize we’re kind of fucked up for putting the decision on the whims of a four year old. Maybe this is a sign we should not have any more kids after all.
But like, the idea of T going through his life without siblings, or even cousins his age is tough. We’re trying to plan these vacations and it’s just SO HARD to coordinate with other families you know? Everyone’s got their own lives and different things happening, and different limitations and what not. We know some families with only one kiddo and ideally they’d be our vacation mates, but yeah, it’s just tough sometimes. I keep regretting that we didn’t try harder like six months ago and maybe now we’d already be well on our way to a #2 that would be semi-close enough in age to be a playmate, but you know what? I can’t do anything about that now so it’s really just needless self-flagellation at this point.
Part of me feels like we should just shut it all down. Give away the baby stuff. Forget about having two kids and move on with the family we already have now. The family that really and truly is enough for us. I honestly don’t know why the baby #2 question is still so friggin’ difficult when I know that I’m quite happy with what I have. Is it greediness? Is it some invisible societal peer pressure thing where you see people with 2+ kids everywhere so it feels like that’s what I’m supposed to aspire to? What is it? I can’t figure it out. Maybe it’s just a primal evolutionary thing where your body is like, “Have some extras! Just in case!”
I feel though, like my body, should really just shut the fuck up if that’s what it is though. My body has not earned the right to demand that it carry more babies. We just barely got through that last pregnancy by the skin of our teeth, and thank God everyone is here and okay, but truly the idea of being pregnant again kind of scares me. I am five years older (FIVE YEARS OLDER – HOLY SHIT!) and I feel it. Or at least, I think I do? Maybe I’ve always been this exhausted, it’s hard to say now. My blood pressure isn’t as good and my kidney function is poopier. Let’s face it, I probably shouldn’t have another baby.
And yet, we still have that fucking crib upstairs. We still have the infant car seat in the god damn garage. We still have bottles in the cupboards and a whole fuckton of baby clothes packed away in the closets.
Something about this is hard to let go of. So we just haven’t.