A number of people have asked, joked, or been giving meaningful glances at my slightly-more-bloated-than-usual abdomen (which is purely due to the re-discovery of an old high school favorite ice cream sandwich, but thanks for noticing, mother-in-law) and so I am here to relieve you of any doubt, NACHT, no more babies.
No.
Here is my deep, dark secret: I want another two-year-old so badly. Miss Thang is amazing. Full of "why's" and tantrums, but also primative jokes, terribly off-key singing, whole-body hugs, and actual conversation. I adore her. I always have. I have loved her deeply, from the second she appeared, but that first year was really fucking hard work and I struggled to keep my sanity, no joke there. Now it's (mostly) just fun. And I would love to have another, but I have not developed the amnesia about how hard it was at the beginning. (Plus, you know, all the swelling and bleeding and whatnot to get her here in the first place.)
Mostly I am terrified to have another because of darling little haikus that I would write, tears streaming down my face as I felt like my nipples were slowly being ripped off, much like this one:
Three o'clock A.M.
Death would be better than this.
Go the fuck to sleep.
But you know what? A year and a half later, I realize it was so, so worth it that I wish for another. I am glad I did it. I am just not sure I could survive it again, and that would really suck, because life is really good right now. Meanwhile, I suggest you get yourself an It's-It for a little taste of heaven.
Herein I write about the inane details of my life, including the arrival of the fabulous and spunkiest toddler EVER, Miss Thang; the evil workings of my two darling hell-minions, my cats; the fabulous love of a dreamy man whom I married, The Funasaurus; my overall dislike of anything exercise-y; and my grand aspirations to one day be the reigning monarch of Norway... and also to hold the record for gallons of cabernet consumed in one happy hour. Oh. And a love of run-on sentences. Bienvenue!
- Awake at All Hours
- Book Slut
- Cute Overload
- Dooce
- Elizabeth Anne Designs
- Girl's Gone Child
- Huffington Post
- Laser Blade W/ Machine Gun Attachment
- Meet the Dubiens
- Meno's Blog
- Merry Mishap
- Mimi Smartypants
- Motherlode
- My Grand Adventure Part II
- Postsecret
- Project Subrosa
- Ramblings of a Redheaded Step-Child
- Rhyme, Reason, or None of the Above
- Runs with Scissors
- Silly Kitchen Witch
- Slices of Life
- The Rejectionist
- Thirty Something Fashion
- Tomorrow is Another Day
- Whoopee
2 comments:
Wait... she's TWO!!!??? How did I miss this fact? Holy cow. I love two-year-olds. It's the greatest age ever. I guess it's a reward for surviving those first couple of years ;) And that haiku made me laugh out loud. And then shudder in fear.
Having worked in a kindergarten for a year, I think I can safely say that ages 4, 5, and 6 are pretty fun, too. AND they're using the toilet by then! :-)
Most women I know who have children suffer terribly during that first year, even if they won't admit it afterward. (What is that Yahoo Melissa woman thinking???)
Part of me says, go for it, have another, then they'll entertain each other, be best friends, and your life will be easier. But then I think about the families I know whose kids seem to dislike one another and won't play together, which makes life harder for the parents. I guess it's a crap shoot? Hey, I'm good for cheerful advice, yes? ;-)
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