impulsive, delusional

I am so done with adding kids to this family. I’m over it. This baby-making shop is closed.

But then. 

We went to the children’s museum. We go to the children’s museum, a lot, actually. So much, in fact, that it serves as a reminder of certain stages of my boys’ lives; a barometer of how much they’ve grown and evolved.

Like just today, Brandon climbed to the top of this jungle gym thing, maybe eight feet in the air and he called down from the top in triumph. I thought about how last year he wouldn’t even go down a slide without help and how he was scared of the dinosaur models.

And then at the water table, Holden was attempting to construct some water tubing and I remembered when he would stand there, his little potbelly propped up against the ledge because he could barely stand.

And I thought about how they will just keep getting bigger and bigger and more and more independent and then one day this would all be over. And how I would never live through these stages with another child again.

Maybe that is why people keep having children – to preserve a period of time by recreating it with someone new. And of course that is a slippery slope and not a particularly great idea for someone as admittedly average at parenting as I am.

But it is still a thought of mine. Because I am not a particularly rational person. I fall more into the category of “highly emotional,” “impulsive” or perhaps even “delusional.” So add that to the list of reasons this baby-making shop is closed.

And then, this afternoon, before I had a chance to set up an appointment with my ob/gyn, I came up with another idea of something to do. And just like that, the thought flitted away, to be filed under “impulsive” or “delusional,” no doubt.

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