31 January 2013

Baby love

M visited me while I was in the shower to ask, "Mum, why did you have two kids?" and of course, I cracked up. I knew what she meant, as I'd just heard screams and shouting between her and her brother. She then said "if you had three kids, and if they were boys, then I had two brothers, I would kick them out of the house. I really would." I was laughing so hard by this point she looked at me in disgust and left the bathroom.

I'm currently reading the second book written by the Duggars, who have many, many children. 18? I'm not sure, and honestly, it's so many more people than I can contemplate living with, much less parenting. I simply cannot imagine how this works. My hands, my mind, my body and my heart are torn in different directions with just two children. I feel that I am constantly asking my kids to wait while I finish one job to get to one of them. My new mantra with my kids is "one thing at a time". I need to tell them, many times a day, that Mummy can only do one thing at a time. I should probably change that to concentrate on one thing at a time. My brain just fries when they are hammering me with questions, requests and physical demands. I become flustered and cranky. I'm hoping that is normal.

Much of the time I am absolutely certain that two children is enough. Enough. Any more of anything and it will send me over the edge of the precipice that I seem to teeter along the edge of. I feel claustrophobic and exhausted. I love them, they're my funny little people and they are beautiful. But tiring, oh yes.

So then there are the few moments where I miss having a tiny baby. Birth. I'd love to give birth again. Breastfeeding. Just being with my baby. Believe me, these moments are few and far between, but they do come. I saw a couple wandering around a shop the other day and they were both just grinning from ear to ear - they were shopping for the baby that they had just discovered they were having. I reveled in their joy, their naivety, their innocence. My kid interrupted my reverie by announcing, quite loudly, that he needed to do a poo right then. Right, back in to reality.

In summary, I'm just saying that babies are fun. But no, I'm not having another one.


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