I have come to the realization that it's a good thing I have more than one child. Not just for the obvious reason, for goodness sakes I wouldn't trade them for the world...most days. For a long time I really thought that one was going to be enough. After giving birth I was determined one was going to be enough. (OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!.) And for goodness sakes again, once that child turned 13 months old I KNEW for SURE that one was MORE than enough. Or so I thought.
So two worked out fine. Things really weren't crazy, though I do remember venturing out of the house to go to my students' fifth grade promotion ceremony while on maternity leave. Greta was home a little under the weather, Clara was about 6 weeks old, and I wanted us all to look extra nice so we donned summery dresses and fluffed our hair, etc. etc. It amazed me how long it took to just finagle us out of the house and wrangle our way into a stuffy gymnasium. Yet it still worked. I have two hands. Two sides of my body for children to lean against, and so on. There are 2 parents...see? 2.
I still haven't figured out how 3 will work, however. It is a totally foreign concept to me. I'm not sure why it seems so strange, I've taught and taken care of far more children, it should be a non-issue. But I still haven't figured out how 3 kids in a family works. The friends I had growing up mostly had 2 kids in the family. Others that had more, the older kids were grown and never around. 2 is such a nice even number. 2 hands, 2 arms, 2 parents. 2 or 4 people fit on a roller coaster, a ski lift, a golf cart. What happens to the fifth? Who is the fifth wheel? I can't wait to figure out how it is all going to work out, and of course I mean to say that me being 'one of those' type of people, I will expect it to work out immediately. Like, first day home. HA! I know, totally not realistic, and life is not meant to be that way. Tell that to my brain that knows rational thinking but chooses not to exercise it all of the time.
This is completely off from where I wanted to take this post, however. I had several points to make, one of which being it's surprisingly easier to be pregnant with a third child, than a first or second. For heaven's sakes I don't have any time to even think about what that little pain might mean, to mope about my legs being exhausted, to wine about not being able to lift someone or something. (Ahh, got all that out. Thanks for listening.) It's not an option. I don't have time to think about how it's hard enough for me to move around the kitchen let alone trying to maneuver an extra 41inches of belly while dragging at least one child by one of my legs, negotiating and elderly dog unwilling to move from my walking path to the fridge while trying to pick out the 'good' grapes from the 'yucky' grapes and wondering 'when did I even buy these grapes anyways'?
There's so many places to go with this topic. Like how many months I have been either pregnant or nursing vs. how many months I've even known my husband. Like how having children is really a good idea because I could see myself becoming lost in obsessions if I only had one child. Stay tuned, for more.
As well as more on the 41 inches....
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