If you read my post from yesterday, you know I have a slight case of baby fever. On top of all that, my younger sister had a baby yesterday, so it’s officially a full-blown syndrome now. I decided that I should write out all the reasons to have a baby at my oh-so-tender-age of 39.
So here goes:
- I have baby names that shouldn’t go to waste (Skyler, Satchel, Sand, Smile. Don’t judge, that’s rude).
- Three is the new two.
- What’s the point of a mini-van if you don’t have at least 3 kids?
- We could get a discount on those
stupiddarling stickers people put on their minivans that show stick-figure representations of the family members.
- More children = more people to take care of me when I am old and infirm.
- Maybe my third child will have decent taste in music.
- These breasts are already sagging, why not put ‘em to use one more time.
- If my sister has three children, then I must have three children, because LIFE IS A COMPETITION, AND I MUST WIN.
- I was hoping I would never have to shoulder the burden of a full-night’s sleep again. (So much pressure to be productive on lots of sleep. Who needs that?)
- Because being poor sounds like fun.
- I want to eat standing up for an additional 4 years.
- Sometimes I get bored, and I bet a new baby would cure that (even if it was simply because the fatigue haze would distract me from the boredom).
- If I had a new baby, I wouldn’t have to pretend I am doing the laundry any time soon, because “Hey! I have a newborn. The laundry can suck it.”
- I could put off those pesky “What should I do with my life?” reveries.
- Once and for all I could buy that BOB stroller I have been too cheap to buy the first two times I procreated.
- I finally know the words to some lullabies and children’s songs, so I could sing my baby to sleep.
- Everyone says that the third baby is the one who comes out knowing how to sleep through the night from Day 1.
- My housekeeping standards have finally sunk so low that all that new baby poop and spit up wouldn’t phase me.
* * *
I am kidding. Mostly. We all know the only reason to bring a new baby into the world is for
shopping opportunities love. I actually think this latest round of itching for a baby is about letting go of and coming to terms with the reality that my baby-making days are over. Naturally, the letting go process is full of emotion, which I cleverly cover up with jokes and sarcasm. (Outlaw Mama = model of mental health.)
But also, it feels good to want what I have, love what is mine and to be in gratitude about my family’s completeness one moment at a time.