I would like to address the topic of number 2. No, not the kind that requires a bathroom visit or a trip to the changing table. By number 2 I mean child number 2. And before anyone gets crazy, I am not pregnant. Although, maybe if I ever am again, what better way to spread the news than with a blog entry? I could be one of those serious bloggers, that when asked personal questions just responds with, “I don’t have time to tell you, just read my blog”. Anyway. So, back to number 2. Child number 2 is that which is in question. Like, when should we work on making it? Apparently, once your current child turns one, it’s completely expected that you get pregnant pronto. I completely feel like I’m going against nature here, being that Brooks is one… and a half! I should totally have one in the oven right now, due in like 3 months. But, here I am, bucking the system because I’m sooooo not pregnant. I’m the type of not pregnant that has me respond with, “Oh my gosh, noooo way, ewww.” if someone asks if I’m pregnant. And, I get that question a lot, because Hello, my child is one and a half already. Also, I’m always hungry, which people naturally attribute to pregnancy. But, hello people, I’m just hungry because a year and a half ago I did a little something called giving birth and am still loosing weight. But I digress.
I guess it would be fair to say that I am more ready to give Brooks a sibling than James is. The reason? Well, far as I can tell, his mind works like this:
Hillary pregnant= Financial burden+Hillary throwing up+Hillary having to lay on her left side for 6 weeks+Financial Burden+a strange little being coming into our house and taking attention away from our precious son.
I can’t say that I don’t entirely disagree. Who wants to throw up, get put on bedrest, pay a stinkload of money and not get as much time with their son, who is crazy amazing and makes the world go ’round. My equation also has weight gain, exhaustion and maternity clothes to account for.
BUT, I keep saying I want Brooks to have a sibling that’s born in the same decade as him. I want him to have a little companion. We were at Dollar General the other night (’cause where else would we be at 7:30 in the evening?) and he had to get this little ghetto looking baby doll. Let me tell you, Baby David (that’s it’s name) is the weirdest looking doll on the planet, but he loves him.
Now, I’m not dumb enough to think that just because he’s good with Baby David, he’d be great with a sibling. In fact, just the other night he threw a category 4 tantrum when I held a friend’s baby. And, come to think of it, this morning he was slamming Baby David’s head against the crib rails and laughing at the cool sound it made. Yeah, maybe he’s not ready to have a tiny, defenseless baby in the house.
So, I don’t know. Things would be so much easier if we could figure out a way to give birth to a one and a half year old. While grossly painful, it seems like it’d be better. Brooks could have his playmate and I could have another super cool, funny toddler in the house instead of going through the whole “baby phase” again. That was soooo last year.