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Two years ago today I posted on Facebook: “Chillin’ in Door County. Baby in bed without any crying about sleeping in a strange place.” Two years ago today we were on our first family vacation and my Monkey was 15 months old. Two years later, only two years, and we have a school-aged child. Only […]
Reading everyone’s comments on my post yesterday made me a little emotional. In a good way. It was so affirming for me.
As I had hoped, getting all our thoughts, fears and concerns written out instead of stuck in our heads, shined a light on our situation and we realized that we probably had the decision made all along — but on those super tough parenting days when no one is listening, everyone is purposely being naughty, the kitchen floor looks like there’s been a food fight, the crying and whining won’t stop and no one’s going to bed easily — you look at each other and go “We must be effing crazy to even consider this.”
But as my friend Anna, summed it up: “If your heart tells you that you have more love to give, then everything else will just fall into place.”
And as several of you said, “You will not regret it, but probably would if you didn’t.”
A few other key takeaways for me:
Whether you’re going from zero children to one, or one to two, or any number, you have concerns about “will we be able to handle it mentally and financially.”
Well, duh. I hadn’t thought of that before, but that’s so true! These are the same questions we ask ourselves when we’re considering any big life change — buying a house, changing jobs, having kids.
It’s the fear that holds us back. The fear of the unknown. You get comfortable with the ways things are, and change is risky.
But as another friend said, “As a mother you can adjust to ANYTHING. Especially for the sake of your kids.”
Amen. Eventually, caring for three kids would become a routine and there would be nothing scary about it. We would adapt.
And finally, I had never heard anyone say that the “KNEW” when they were done, but apparently people feel that way just like others intuitively know when they’re not done. And we definitely don’t feel like we “know” we’re done.
Thank you to the many of you who said “God will provide.” It’s comforting to know that other people believe this too.
I encourage anyone who’s having this discussion in their household to read all of the comments. Also, a mom-of-three friend sent me a list of very thought provoking questions. I honestly appreciated so much her taking the time to help me think through some very realistic scenarios. I thought about my responses, and I’m including the questions here in case it helps someone else decide:
Thank you for your affirmations, your encouragement and your positive thoughts.
Thank you for helping my brain understand what my heart already knew.
I guess it shouldn’t come as much of a surprise to many people who know us, since we’ve been blathering about it and asking family members and friends for opinions, but Husband and I are considering having a third (and final) baby.
We pretty much always thought we would have a third baby, but thought it would be prudent to reserve final judgment until we actually had one baby. And one baby was so fantastic (and in hindsight, so easy with a 2:1 ratio), that we went ahead and got pregnant again when Monkey was 13 months old. Our goal was to have our kids about two years apart. Aaand we succeeded (21.5 months apart).
Bean is just over 18 months old now, and to realize that I was six-ish months pregnant when Monkey was that age, is jaw-dropping to me. Because man, two kids is a whole boatload more work than one.
But, obviously I wouldn’t have known that. And honestly, I wouldn’t change it either. They have a super close bond and I think they’ll be the best of friends.
However, when Bean turned one in February, I was VERY CERTAIN that I would not be getting pregnant the next month. We decided that if we were going to have another baby, we wanted them to be a little more than two years apart.
Well, guess what folks. The time is nigh.
Husband and I have been throwing this question around for the last three months.
Should we have another baby?
Here’s the big picture. I don’t feel done. WE don’t feel done. I didn’t feel like my last pregnancy was my last. I guess I knew it could be. But I didn’t think it would be.
When we think about what our family will look like in 10 years, 20 years — our adult children coming home, all of us sitting around the table on Thanksgiving — two people does not seem like enough. Both Husband and I have large extended families — his mom has six siblings and my mom has eight! We revel in those large family gatherings with aunts and uncles everywhere, loads of cousins and now our cousins’ children running and screeching about. It’s chaos.
And believe me, I don’t want six children of my own. But two? Two doesn’t seem like enough. Three kids though? Three kids bring the possibility of three spouses and maybe even six grandchildren. Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about.
Affecting me more in the present is that when I look at friends’ pictures of their three kids — when I see those three faces, I think “I want that.”
On top of that, we’re fairly certain that we would regret not having a third baby. I actually have several friends and acquaintances who have told me that they regretted not having another baby (whether that was baby #3 or #4). Which motivates me to think, “Go for it.” Yet, don’t you think they made the decision they did because it was best for them at the time?
Or maybe they were slightly paralyzed by the indecision that we seem to find ourselves in.
The trouble is, that the day-to-day details of existing, can be hard. Not every day, although we do seem to be going through a tough couple of weeks.
Bean is at a hard age right now. She is super challenging. She presses all my buttons. But, I keep reminding myself that even if I got pregnant in the next 2-4 months, maybe longer (although probably not because that’s always been a blessing of mine), she would be at least 2.5 years old. And that’s actually a pretty manageable age, considering that she’ll be really verbal by then. Our experience with Monkey was that once she hit the two-year mark her tantrums dramatically diminished because she could communicate what she wanted, and we were able to reason with her (as in, STOP RUNNING CIRLCES AROUND PARKED CARS, because IT IS DANGEROUS).
Here’s the big BUT.
BUT, are we underestimating how hard it will be and how much work it will be?
Are we underestimating the expense? I doubt that we would be able to pull off half of two kids’ college educations, much less three.
I tend to be more of the romantic mindset of “we’ll figure it out.” And so does Husband. Is that foolhardy? In situations past, we’ve made cuts when we needed to make cuts. But there are certain things that are very important to Husband and me — we want to take biannual family vacations with our kids. We want the road trip experience to South Dakota and Washington D.C. We want the annual trip to the water park or the state fair. We want to go to Disney (not multiple times, but at least once). Will we price ourselves out of these things, leaving us and our kids disappointed?
Normally I’m a “gut” decision maker. My gut says, “Do it.”
It’s my head that’s screwing everything up.
Primarily my head is asking me, “It’s really hard at times right now. Can you really handle it? Are there things you’re not considering?”
I want to be the best mom I can be, or at least “good enough” most of the time. I don’t want to be overwhelmed and stressed the majority of the time. I don’t want frustration and anger to dominate my interactions with my kids.
Am I capable? I don’t want to short change my kids.
This is a bigger decision than I thought it would be.
I want to trust my instincts, but I’m afraid of not thoroughly thinking it through.
I know we could wait longer until Bean is even more independent. I know that technically, we don’t have to make this decision right now. But I’m going to be 33 this year, and 35 is considered “advanced maternal age.” So if you want to get technical, we really don’t have that much more time.
More importantly, our personal choice is that we don’t want to wait much longer.
Primarily, because life is getting to a pretty nice stage right now. We have some freedoms. Monkey is starting pre-school next week and then next fall she’ll be in half-day Kindergarten every day. She no longer needs a nap. Bean only takes one nap a day, there are no bottles, and soon enough we’ll be diaper free. To have several more years of increasing “freedoms” to go places and do more things, without having to worry about the kid-missed-a-nap-meltdown, will make it really tough to start over again.
We don’t want to get too far away from the 3 a.m. feedings, diaper blowouts, pooping in the bathtub, food-throwing stage.
So for us personally, we don’t want to wait much longer.
My actions have not demonstrated my indecision:
My gut is saying yes.
Are there things we’re not considering? Can we handle it?
I want my brain to say yes.
For the last several months I have been asking a lot of my mom-of-three friends to give me the good, the bad and the ugly (THANK YOU!). I’ve even been asking perfect strangers for their thoughts.
And I have been praying, asking God to open my heart to the right decision.
So this is one of those opportunities for you to go ahead and give me your advice, because I’m actively soliciting it! What do you think? Are you or have you struggled with this decision? What did you end up deciding?
As a side note, two other big pros are that the girls are extremely nurturing and I think they would love another (REAL LIVE) baby. They already fight like cats and dogs over the baby dolls. Also, we have an absolutely awesome childcare situation since my mother-in-law watches the girls and has said that she would be willing to take on another baby. Although, we better just triple check that 😉
Feel free to weigh in.
I should also note that it’s rather uncharacteristic of me to so publicly talk about our reproductive intentions since this has always been something we reserved to very close friends and family members. While I’m pretty open about sharing my thoughts and feelings, and asking questions, the whole “having kids” thing wasn’t something I liked to share with just anyone. In part we kept it private because we struggled with miscarriages. For some reason, maybe because we have two kids already and it would be okay if we couldn’t have anymore, I’m feeling more open about it. More likely because I’m tired of having an internal debate and I need to get my feelings OUT. (Don’t worry, Husband gave me the ok)
I remember when I first got pregnant. I leaned heavily on my two older cousins who are more like sisters to me, and who both already had little ones. I would overwhelm them with questions about pregnancy and babies and they would overwhelm me with information about car seats and weight limits, and swaddling and soothers, and oh, no ibuprofen, and watch the deli meats and fresh fish please.
I would be left sputtering, “But, but. HOW do you KNOW all that??”
And they would say, “You just pick it up as you go along. You have a designated ‘go to person.’ Someone who’s gone through it already who can tell you everything you need to know.”
Remember that one time, when Hillary Clinton wrote that book, It Takes a Village, about raising children? Well it damned well does.
Because here’s the thing. I don’t really recall my OB/GYN going through this endless list of pregnancy do’s and don’ts. It was really more me saying, “Oh, and I’m not supposed to sleep on my back after X month and I’m not supposed to take ibuprofen and I’m not supposed to wear horizontal stripes, right?” And my doctor mmhming. If I didn’t have my cousins telling me these things, presumably, I wouldn’t have known. I mean, all my doctor really proactively advised me was to take prenatal vitamins. Duh.
Which leads me to the fact that the single thing I love most about social media (Facebook, Twitter and this blog), is that it’s a virtual community that makes my life as a mom easier, because there ain’t no handbook, hon. (I mean, aside from my bitching about how my cell phone and laptop aren’t working, and uploading nasty pictures of my burnt pork roast, asking kid questions is by far the thing I love most).
Being able to quickly and easily connect with a lot of people who are in a similar life position as me — married, with children — is not something that would be possible without Facebook, Twitter and this blog. If only for the simple fact that I just wouldn’t have been able to keep in touch with all of them through email or the phone. But via Facebook, I AM able to stay connected with old high school friends, college friends, former co-workers, and the occasional weird relative (KIDDING! :)).
Social media is something that defines this generation of parents, and will be a social norm for every generation after.
This May, Facebook friends even helped a mom diagnose her son with Kawasaki disease, a rare and sometimes fatal auto-immune disorder, after the initial doctor misdiagnosed him. Her Facebook community effectively saved her son’s life.
For some people, Facebook and social media might not be their norm, or a useful forum for parenting questions, now, or maybe ever. But for someone who is “wired” almost all of the work day, it’s natural for me.
I also realize that because I’m so active on Facebook, and ask a lot of questions, it might come across that I’m clueless or lack parenting instincts because I ask other people their opinion. But that’s not the case at all, and anyone who knows me well, knows that it’s a cold day in hell when I don’t have an opinion about something. 😉
The truth is, I like information. I am an information seeker. I like knowing things. I’ve wanted to know “why” since the day I was old enough to talk (just ask my mom). I even exasperated my high school history teacher one day, because I asked “why” about something so many times (I don’t even remember what), and she noted, “Your parents must be exhausted.” They were. If you want a reaction from my mom just ask her about the lengthy explanations she had to give me, as a teenager, when she told me I couldn’t do something.
On top of that, when it comes to, well, just about anything, I’m a firm believer in the “I’m sure someone has a better way of doing this” philosophy. Why not benefit from someone else’s trials and errors? Why make all the same mistakes?
Now again, that’s not to say that I don’t have opinions or ideas of my own. I do (the majority of the time, although there definitely have been times where I’ve been like, “I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I’M DOING. HEEELP ME, PLEEEEASE.”).
Being an information seeker, I like reading articles and parenting books (honestly just a couple) and I like asking our pediatrician for her advice because she happens to have a similar parenting style and attitude as Husband and me, and because I have not yet exhausted her wealth of information (and since I ask a lot of questions, you can imagine her knowledge is extensive), and because she has three kids of her own. Including twins! And two with ADHD! (If you ever want to hear me go on and on and profess my undying love for someone other than my husband, just ask me about the girls’ pediatrician. One of the reasons I love her so much is because she NEVER makes me feel stupid for asking questions and she NEVER makes me feel rushed. And as someone who asks a lot of questions, I’ve had people both make me feel stupid and like I’m wasting their time; a certain realtor comes to mind.)
Even though I’m the information seeker, I’m never making decisions without the full support of Husband. We’re both totally on the same page.
But getting back to the reason I ask a lot of questions — it’s because I’m seeking advice and input from people I trust — friends, relatives, doctors — and then using their constructive feedback to either affirm what I’m doing is best for my family, or consider a new, better approach. I’m open to new ideas, so I ask. Living in a vacuum benefits no one (in my opinion). And honestly, this applies to my parenting style as much as it applies to when I ask my Facebook friends who are horse owners the best way to get rid of horse flies (because Google yielded limited help).
You remember the old adage, “two heads are better than one,” right? How about “there’s more than one way to skin a cat?” (who ARE these people anyway, and WHY are they skinning cats??) I guess the reason I’m open to other ideas is because I also tend to have a collaborative leadership style. Let’s all throw our ideas together and come up with the best way.
Social media makes this exceptionally easy (for me) because everyone can throw in the things that worked best for them, I can evaluate them based on what I think is best for my family, use some and leave the rest. How awesome is that? It’s probably the closest thing we’re ever going to get in terms of a parenting handbook.
So far my experience has been that mothers especially, when asked (and sometimes even when it’s unsolicited), are MORE than happy to offer their tips and tricks to navigating parenthood. Whenever I get together with moms in person, inevitably we end up sharing ideas on potty training, the transition to the big kid bed, nuk weaning, and, well, that’s as far as I’ve gotten because my kids aren’t older than three. I’m sure that when all of our kids are older we’ll be swapping notes on bullying, homework habits and how to have “the talk.” (shudders)
I think the same holds true for asking moms questions on the phone or online. Other moms have even told me, “I’m so glad you asked that questions because I really wanted to see what everyone’s answers were.”
Perhaps I rely on social media more than the average person because I work by myself and don’t have the benefit of asking real live human beings … anything.
Don’t get me wrong, social media will never replace my relationships with the 3-4 women whom I’m closest with. Ironically, it’s this handful of women that I almost never interact with on Facebook. We still call each other. (Side note, last night Monkey was pretending to talk on the phone and Husband said, “Monkey, you need to hang up the phone now and come eat dinner,” and she said, “What do you mean, hang up the phone?” OMG. Husband and I looked at each other with somewhat stunned expressions. We realized that Monkey, having never really seen a phone that goes on a “hook,” didn’t know that “hang up the phone,” meant “disconnect the call.” Husband said, “What are we going to say to our kids when they’re teenagers? Flip the phone closed? End the call?” I said, “Maybe we’ll just say, ‘GET OFF THE GODDAMNED PHONE.’”)
So what do you think? Is asking questions a sign of weakness or “cluelessness,” or do you think there’s value in shared knowledge. What’s your mothering style? Have you embraced social media as a tool in your mothering arsenal? Do you frequently poll your friends to get advice on parenting issues? Or do you prefer to talk with your mom friends “offline.” Or maybe you don’t feel the need to ask anything?
As a side note, this week marks the second anniversary of this blog, and I just wanted to thank you again for being a part of my “village.” I truly appreciate all of the comments, advice, suggestions and feedback. Not only is this blog one of the tools in my arsenal, but it’s also been a way for me to mark the milestones in my motherhood journey. Looking back on where I was last year it’s remarkable how things change (much less guilt). Thank you for reading.
We survived the drive to and from Michigan! Although, if you recall, we were planning to leave around 3 a.m. to reduce the amount of “awake” driving time. Er, except it didn’t work out that way. At all. They didn’t sleep. Nope. Just Chatty Cathy back there and her Alert Sister. We hadn’t even considered the possibility that they wouldn’t fall back to sleep. It hadn’t even entered our minds. My chief concern was how late they would sleep given that the sun rises at 6 a.m., not that they wouldn’t sleep at all. Bean fell asleep for exactly 50 minutes, after 6.5 hours of driving, and Monkey fell asleep for 40 minutes, after driving for 7.5 hours. Oh, and P.S. They didn’t really sleep on the way home either (see below).
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The wedding itself was lovely. Monkey was a fabuloso flower girl. She didn’t get scared or freaked out at all. I’m so glad that she got to have that experience and I hope she remembers it even when she’s older. I have to admit though, it was difficult trying to juggle the two of them between nail and hair appointments (me), golf (Eric), the ceremony (with all of us standing up except Bean who clawed her way out of my mom’s arms and made a beeline for Husband), and the dinner. By the time we got to dinner Bean was D-O-N-E and her non-stop shrieking, screaming and crying during the best man and maid of honor toasts made that abundantly clear to the entire room.
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I guess the only real driving hiccup we had was when we were only 25 minutes from home. Bean had fallen asleep after we left Green Bay where we stopped for dinner, but then she woke up when we had to make a pit stop in Oshkosh for Monkey to pee. Bean wasn’t happy about waking up, and continued to be unhappy and inconsolable. You could say that she was MORE THAN BEYOND D-O-N-E and we had to stop in Fond du Lac and take her out of the car because she was crying so hard that she made herself throw up. When we pulled into the gas station in Fond du Lac we happened to park next to a mom nursing her baby in the backseat of her car. You could say that she was empathizing with us as Husband started ripping things out of the back of the van so that he could put one of the seats up and entertain Bean for the remainder of the drive.
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When we returned from our trip to Michigan the roof hadn’t been touched since we left and the concrete patio also was not completed. Too-hot weather while we were gone meant that the concrete would set up too fast, and then rain interfered the following week and the pour had to be postponed. Other work obligations prevented our professional roofer from doing anything with our roof while we were gone, and after we got back. It took another whole week and a lot of tense moments before the projects were completed. Finally, three weeks after we started, everything was done.
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So, if you recall, I said that Bean being in her Terrible Twos wasn’t that bad because I had experienced it before. Pfffffffffft. I was either on a trip-packing high, or just plain high. On a good day I say she’s “independent,” “determined,” “focused.” On a bad day I say she’s a PITA who’s stubborn, won’t listen, and throws a kicking, screaming fit when I try to help her with things. She would rather throw herself in a corner and refuse to look at me than let me help her with that disaster-waiting-to-happen Gogurt. Baaaah.
Honestly, I thought Monkey was going to be my difficult child, because she exhibits/exhibited all the same traits, but Bean takes it to the next level. She kicks, throws her arms, throws herself down, hides her face, and flat-out ignores us. Her favorite game is when we say “STOP” and she just laughs and runs faster — around the house, into the road, and circling parked cars at the State Fair parking lot.
Her favorite word is “MINE” which she shouts while standing in the middle of the room clutching something that no one else is even trying to get. Which leads to her volume. Good God, is she loud. I think she is quite literally THE LOUDEST child I’ve ever encountered. She’s loud even in situations where it’s not warranted — like, when we’re sitting right next to her and totally paying attention to her. And she cannot be persuaded to be quieter. In fact, I think asking her to be quiet only invigorates her loudness.
Oh, and I can’t forget the throwing. When she’s mad? She throws stuff. Or knocks it over. Or both.
The cherry on top? She’s a hitter. We have no idea where she gets this from because we don’t hit and Monkey never hit.
Bean, this is Mr. Timeout. Mr. Timeout, meet Bean.
When describing this egregious behavior to the girls’ beloved pediatrician, she gave me a little wink and said “It’s good that you’re going through this so the next time you see a child hitting you don’t smugly think, ‘Look at those terrible parents.’”
And that is exactly what I’d like to say to the friends we ran into at the ball park after Bean very purposefully poured her open cup of water down my chest and then proceeded to hit me. DON’T JUDGE ME.
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Oh, and the pediatrician said that we can expect biting next.
(JAW DROPPING) O-M-G
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So one of Monkey’s latest things is to tell poop jokes. Basically the “joke” is a bunch of nonsensical words all jumbled together along with the word “poop,” followed by her laughing hysterically at herself. I don’t really know where she gets this from (although she has been spending a lot of time with her older cousins lately). Then today she wanted me to sing a silly song using the words “private area.” I’m sure this is going to go over GREAT when she starts pre-school in three weeks.
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On the Night You Were Born 