Well.

Some thoughts, reader.




On kids, babies.

Our child, my Little Hands, my Jellyfish, is about to be two in a week or so. Shes so close, I just say she's two, who cares.

This weekend, the question was posed to me, in the bed, amongst those cloudy, sleepy warming moments before sleep.

"Would be upset if you found yourself pregnant again?"

Wat.


Let me assure you, I love my child. She's my greatest joy, even if sometimes her tantrums drive me up the wall. A normal thing.

I want an absolute horde of children, a huge busy full house of screaming laughing shrieking kids. I'll be that Mum at the mall with the herd of kids walking together, being noisey, if well behaved.
.. Eventually.

Right now, I'm the Mum with the shrieking, running about willy-nilly, throwing herself on the floor because she dosn't want to hold hands toddler.

I have no fucks to give in that regard - yes, she's two, not twelve, she'll have fits. She's two, I don't demand she be a silent as a mouse. She's my freakishly bouncy, exuberant and independant Tyranno-Dactyl.

Manners from a two year old are a hard request, so I don't holler at her because she didn't say thank you to the stranger who called her adorable.  All one can do is politely say "oh thank you." and move on. Don't get angry, she's two, not twelve.

I'm also the Mum that goes stir crazy from never being a lone, gets frustrated with always being on duty, cooking dinner cleaning up and so on. I used to think I was crazy for these feelings. Am I insane because some days I want nothing more than you to go to BED, holyshit (!) ?

No.

My husband has the itch bad, and wants more kids, like now. I agree; you know, I don't want a huge gap in ages in kids, but you know what? Being pregnant sucked. I was raised that when you're pregnant, you're at home, you get to cuddle and enjoy the gush of hormones coursing through you, nestled in blankets and surrounded by family; eating weird shit and weeping at stupid shit while being indulgently patted by your mothers and/or grandmothers.

Ha!

No one tells you about the body aches, the heart burn (that was a new one for me), just how ungodly tired and EMOTIONALLY IRRATIONAL you get. Goddamn. Or the waddling. The weird shit it does to your heart.

No one really tells you how hard it is to deal with shit, just how badly you really want your Mum, and nope, she's not there.

I found pregnancy greatly to my dislike. Plus working while pregnant. People act retarded when you're pregnant at work.

Yes, I'm pregnant. No you may not touch my belly. Fuck you. Yes I'm crying, fuck off.

Some people are supportive, others are derisive (Why are you even at work? can you even function?).

It's most assuredly not an experience I look back on in total fondness.

However I want more kids, I want to give my husband a horde of babies to make his hair grayer, to roll in the grass with them as we get sticks in hour hair and watch them experience their first autumn and jump in leaf piles.

It's not even the financial part of things that scares me from having more babes.  Grant it, I am employed, my husband, for now, is not. We're a two income household, so that needs fixing. What gets me is just, how do I manage through another bout of being gravid.

I can see how to better manage things NOW, that I had NO idea about then, but still. There is a degree of trepidation there that I can't quite shake.

Babies man, they change things.