Maybe our family sizes are predetermined. Maybe everyone is supposed to stop having kids after a certain number and you can tell when that is by when your “Bookend Child” arrives.
A Bookend Child is a child who is rowdy and rambunctious and hard to handle and already has the characteristics of a youngest child even before you’ve decided he will be your youngest child. Some kids make you want to have more kids. Not the bookend child. Your talk of “trying again” will cease sometime in his babyhood because even the thought of going through this again will exhaust you.
Holden is my bookend child. Before he was born, Steve always said he would like “two, maybe three” kids. I wanted three, maybe four. Actually, I wanted four. I am a product of a four-child family and I thought the sibling love was pretty awesome. But then came Holden.
Here we call him “nutball” or “menace” or “maniac” as our terms of endearment because he loves to destroy and terrorize. He keeps me on my toes. I actually break out into a full sweat when I change his diaper because he thrashes and flips over so much I get stressed out. He can find a way to hit his head even with my undivided attention. I can not always save him from himself. Steve asked me if I caught any of the Superbowl and I replied, “are you kidding me? I’m just trying to keep Holden alive for another day.”
All that being said, I am grateful for my Bookend Child. He was my dose of reality that four kids just isn’t right for me. I don’t always know what is best and I can’t always plan out my life in advance. I will work with what I get and ammend future plans from there. Life is a pretty constant road of ammending earlier plans, I’ve noticed.
The only thing that is constant is change.