I Must Be Crazy

If we wait for the moment when everything, absolutely everything, is ready, we shall never begin.- Ivan Turgenev, novelist, poet, playwright

This quote spoke to me on a number of levels. As a writer, it reminded me that I need to just sit down and write, or I'll never get my stories out of my head. As a mother, it reminded that life isn't going to wait, it's going to carry on with or without me. 

Yesterday, I was cleaning out Danger Baby's closet, packing up the outfits she has finally out-grown, and getting some of the warmer clothes moved to the front to prepare for the shifting seasons. As I sifted through the tiny dresses hanging in her closet, I came across the one her sister wore home from the hospital more than seven years ago. 

A white and pink sleeveless dress with little tiny pink rosebuds embroidered on it. I remembered waiting in my hospital room for my husband to return from the store with something for our little girl to wear. His mother was concerned that I was letting him chose our daughter's outfit, but I had complete faith in him. He didn't let me down. The Angry Midget had her hospital mugshot taken in that dress, and wore it several times once she was home as well. Fast forward a few years, and I had another little girl to share that dress with. Danger Baby wore it a handful of times and looked just as cute in it as her sister did all those years before.

When I packed that dress up the first time, I was a little sad because my baby was growing up, but I carefully put it away with the intention of getting it back out in a few years for my next baby. When I folded up that little pink and white dress yesterday, it was with a much heavier heart. I didn't pack it away with the intention of seeing it again in a few years, I packed it away in a special box for long term storage. 

When The Angry Midget was little, every milestone was greeted with joy and excitement. I was a little sad that my baby was growing up, but I knew that there would be more babies, and that I would get to enjoy the stages that were being left behind all over again with another little person some day. After six years had passed, and we were still a one child home, I brought myself to terms with the fact that that was all the more we were ever going to have. Relief was among my primary emotions at this realization. The birth didn't go well, and I was, quite frankly, not looking forward to ever going through that again. 

I had a hard time with Midget's first day of Kindergarten. She really wasn't my baby any more. I had a pang of regret that I hadn't focused more on her milestones, and really enjoyed and reveled in them. I regretted my "First of Many" attitude. Even if we would have had more, each child is different.

Then in March of last year everything was turned on its ear. I was pregnant again, and I was less than thrilled about it. Eventually, I came around and now I have not one but two beautiful little girls that I talk about all the time. That pregnancy was the best worst thing that ever could have happened. It brought my husband and I closer together. It strengthened our relationship. It helped him realize that I needed him to step up his parenting game and help me out a lot more. 

The birth of my second daughter also helped heal some of my own wounds from my first daughter's birth. It wasn't perfect, and it wasn't exactly how I wanted it to be, but it was still wonderful and I'm glad I had the chance to try again. I'm also very sure that I don't ever want to go through that process again. So sure in fact, that R and I have been discussing permanent pregnancy prevention (I'm of the opinion that since I've had two surgeries, it's his turn, but he's not convinced yet.) 


At lest I thought I was sure.

Now that Danger Baby is growing up, and reaching all her milestones, I'm trying to just live in the moment and enjoy every stage as she masters it. Unlike last time, I know this time that she is our last baby, and I'm really sad about that. So sad, that I'm actually considering another baby. 


Yes, I think I may in fact be crazy. I'm considering another baby. But if we have another, I would want to wait about four more years. This poses a lot of problems. My age as well as R's age primarily. Four years from now I will be 37 and R will be 49. That's pretty old to be having a baby. Of course, it's probably just hormones making me think I want another baby, and who knows how I'll feel next month or next year, much less four years from now. 


For now, I'll just try to enjoy every moment with Danger Baby and The Angry Midget, because as I've already learned, you never really know where life is going to take you, or what it's going to give you along the way.

The Man, The Angry Midget and Danger Baby