“Mom, Dad, we have something we want to discuss with you.”
My husband and I looked at each other in apprehension. It’s always a little scary when your three kids—even the toddler—band together for a “family discussion.”
My oldest son Kyle took the lead, “You said if mom didn’t get pregnant by Christmas, we could get a puppy.”
The girls nodded their head in agreement and three-year-old Kolby chimed in with a chant, “puppy, puppy, puppy!”
I exhaled a big whoosh of exasperation, delighted at my children’s tenacity and complete frustration at my old and rusty uterus.
The kids are right. We’ve tried and tried and it’s time to own up and pay our puppy dues.
I really do want my kids to get their dream dog. I also really want one more baby. I guess I want both.
I don’t want to throw in the towel yet (I’ve still got a month) but my biological clock seems to have stalled and stuck—it’s been two years and two miscarriages—so unless we explore infertility, I am more likely picking up dog poop in the near future than changing diapers.
(Insert a melancholy tune)
Sometimes I wonder if I’m the only one who feels this breathtaking sadness at hanging up the cleats in the baby making department.
I see women all the time who have one or two kids and are so adamant they are DONE.
While I respect their resolve, I’ve never had that feeling stick. Not even once!
No timer dinged loudly in my brain or heart. The only thing holding me back from the Brangelina adoption of a mini-tribe is money.
As far as I concerned, the more (munchkins) the merrier.
When I hear people complain about their kids I cover my ears. Yes, these little (and big) suckers drive me bazonkers, but it’s a beautiful chaos.
Call me crazy, but I just want more. More kisses, more cuddles, more baseball games and tutu’s, more giggles and yes…even more teenage angst.
Children are life—ravishing reminders of God’s blessing and love in a world of chaos.
Maybe my thinking is broken. Maybe it’s letting go of control? I don’t know. It’s just hard to watch the baby years come to a halt.
Maybe I’m afraid of who I am when I don’t have a passel of children around to distract me. Before I had kids, I was a little lonely. I was a (mostly) only child with a large age gap between myself and my half-brother. A large family fills that gap.
The laughter, the noise, the energy…I love it.
Tim and I told the kids we would seriously consider our prior agreement.
I also told them to ignore any strange noises from our bedroom.
“EEEEWWWWWW!!!!! Gross!” yelled my middle schooler. Kyle just smirked.
(This is one way to guarantee you will never have sex, because kids are smarter. Kyle simply stays up until 1:00am doing homework, Kolby and Faith wake up at 5:00am since the time change and just for good measure, Kolby also wakes up in the middle of the night to go potty)
We have to be sneaky in this house.
And we just might need to call a handyman to repair the broken fence on our dog run (just in case).
