To Three or Not to Three, That is the Question
I’m asked this question at least once a week. I’m not sure what it is about having two preschool age boys that compels people to inquire about my reproductive agenda, but they do. I've recently decided to have a little fun with prying strangers by coming up with clever responses like,
"You'll have to bring that up with my husband's sperm."
"Oh we actually have a little girl, but she's ugly so we don't bring her outside."
As much as I love messing with people, I think now is a good time to put an end to the madness and come clean. I do want another baby. Boy or girl. There’s no doubt about it. I also want a flying car, flowing blond hair, a pet giraffe, six inches off my waist and a winter home in Aruba, but not necessarily in that order.
I’ve always wanted a large family. Soon after getting engaged I would daydream about my version of domestic bliss, which always included a house full of kids. We didn’t wait very long to get stared. Our first son arrived 17 months after our wedding day, and number two came 20 months later. Armed with a double stroller, a steady flow of caffeinated beverages and a diaper bag the size of Rhode Island, we figured it would be wise to close the baby factory for a few seasons for self preservation purposes.
More than three years have come and gone since our youngest was born, and as much as I’d love to add another person to the family, I’m happy with our little tribe. We’ve traded in the days of smelly diapers, sleepless nights and bulky double strollers for crayons, Legos, hide and seek, super heroes, and walks to the playground. As a family of four we can employ our “divide and conquer” method of parenting without being outnumbered by the kids. We don’t have to pay $100 to fill up an SUV because we still fit nicely into our mid-sized car. And with just one year left of two full-time daycare tuitions, this mysterious “disposable income” I’ve heard so much about is almost within reach.
I can present countless practical arguments as to why we should nix the idea of baby #3, yet I can’t bring myself to get rid of the baby gear that’s collecting dust in our attic. Am I just hanging on to the past or yearning for a reason to use it all again? Probably a little bit of both, I suppose. While I know that now is not the time for another baby, deep down I know I'll be ready to do it all again someday.