playgroupsarenoplaceforchildren

Maybe because my 35th birthday and the looming ADVANCED MATERNAL AGE label are right around the corner, I’ve been thinking a lot about the possibility of more children.  I realize that women have healthy babies every single day who are 35, 38, or 42.  There’s just something about the medical community’s label of advanced maternal age, even if it’s flawed and ridiculous, that somehow feels final.  It’s almost like getting a kindly worded letter stating, “Thank you so much for your contribution of children to our society.  We are currently not accepting any children from the ADVANCED MATERNAL AGE group at this time.  If you feel you received this in error, please contact our office at 1-800-WRINKLED-UTERUS.”

So many people have told me that when you’re done having kids, you’ll just know.

Well I don’t know!  We’re probably done having babies.  Maybe.   Probably.

Before Tate and I got married and we used to gaze dreamily into one another’s eyes and imagine our future family, it always included two kids.  We both grew up in families of four and it just seemed logical that we’d do it the same way.  I can’t believe how extraordinarily lucky we’ve been with two healthy, beautiful gifts of children.  A boy and a girl!  What more could we possibly want?

Our family doesn’t feel incomplete.  We are complete!   Definitely.  Maybe.  Probably.

We have discussed having a third baby, in an abstract sort of way.

“We only have a three bedroom house,” he’ll say.  “Children share bedrooms all the time.  But I don’t think we really NEED another child.  I’m just thinking out loud.”  I’ll say, watching Tate’s face change from mild panic to relief.

“I love the name Chase, don’t you?” I’ll ask Tate randomly.  “What about Georgia for a girl?”  He’ll look at me sideways and just shake his head.  “I just like to think about baby names, not for born babies, just the imaginary ones. Can’t a girl dream?!”

“Would you really want to start all over?” my mom has asked me over the phone.  The answer to that is, no.  No, I really don’t want to go back to nap schedules and sleepless nights (those will return soon enough with teenagers), or breastfeeding and high chairs.  Our kids are so close in age, by very careful design, they both enjoy the same activities.  Next year, they’ll both be in school at the same time!

Before we got pregnant with Carson, both Tate and I felt ready to have a baby.  (SO HILARIOUS, I know!  Ready!  For a baby!  HA!!)  We were 200% certain that we wanted to be parents, it was something that consumed all of my thoughts.  I didn’t feel any doubt as we tried to get pregnant.  The doubt came as soon as the pregnancy test was positive and lasted until he was five months old.  In the back of mind, I kept waiting for his real parents to show up and claim him.  I wasn’t sure at all about being ready for a second baby, but we took an enormous leap of faith and on a whim decided to give Carson a sibling.  We knew we’d never regret having another baby and grow our family, but there wasn’t an all consuming urge like there had been when we decided to start our family.

Now I have even less of an urge to make another baby.  I don’t fully grasp why I even entertain the possibility!  There isn’t just one, neat and concise answer.  Many of my friends have three (or MORE!) kids.  Maybe because they seem perfectly sane, even happy, that I entertain the idea in a romantic sort of way.  (Ah!  Cute baby clothes and wee baby feet!  Gummy grins and sweet baby smells!)  Maybe I want to keep up with the Joneses.  Maybe I still have so many great baby names to use.  Maybe I really enjoyed breastfeeding.  Maybe I’ve lost my mind.  My “baby” will be three in May, and then all of a sudden I’ll wake up one day both my children will be off to college and married with kids.  At some point, the childbearing years end, but perhaps it’s THE END that makes me want to keep my babies babies, by having just one more.

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I’m so curious about how people make these decisions about growing their family (or not growing their family.)  How did you decide to start a family?  What made you have one baby?  Two babies?  Seven babies?  Are you done having babies?   HOW DID YOU KNOW YOU WERE DONE!!!????

I sort of feel like mother of the year when I look at this picture.  Mud makes me completely insane, I hate the unavoidable mess.  Yet!  Because my children ADORE mud, I let them jump and splash in the mud puddles in our yard after Friday evening’s rain.

At least the light was perfect and I at least I got a few shots of the children.  And at least I was going out that evening with friends and leaving Tate to clean up two very muddy children.  So not only am I mother of the year for letting them play in the mud, I’m also a genius for doing it on a night that I wouldn’t have to deal with the aftermath.

You can see my entire set of photos for my project 365 {2010} on Flickr.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010.  Snapshots from a day in the life….

(Inspired by this post on Whatever…)

Bem-vindo a Portugual!  Welcome to Portugal!

I ran away from home a few weeks ago, straight into the welcoming arms of World Market and found a plethora of international delights.   These cookies kept beckoning from several different shelves.  “COMPRE-ME!  COMPRE-ME! (BUY ME!  BUY ME!)” they chanted.

I was intrigued.  Cookies.  From Portugual.  There was no way this was going to end badly, I was certain.  Unlike the sake incident of aught nine, I knew that cookies were a relatively safe choice.

Readers of Playgroups are No Place for Children, please meet Princesa Assortment Biscuits!  An assortment of cookies, indeed!  Wafers, cookies shaped like hearts and pretzels covered with chocolate, cookies with chocolate centers, and buttery cookies were gobbled down by a ravenous family of four in less than a week.   We had several boxes of Girl Scout Cookies lying around the house that went completely untouched while we finished the Portuguese cookies.

Hailing from Portugal, these tasty cookies are, well, tasty.  EVERYONE in the family loved them.  “So crunchy!” exclaimed Carson.  “So crunchy!” exclaimed Ella, as she says whatever Carson says.  “MaahMrrmrrrmmm!” exclaimed Tate, his mouth full of cookies.

(Dearest FTC, these cookies were a purchase I made all by myself!  I’ve never even been to Portugal!  Furthermore, I’ve never conversed with any companies (PR or Princesa Assortment Biscuit makers) regarding my love for these cookies.  Okay?  Okay!)

Greetings from somewhere along our way up the Cherohala Skyway!

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It’s only my favorite photo of the week because the WHOLE family is in the picture!  Unheard of!  I used my tripod and felt like a real, live photographer!  Everyone is looking at the camera, I’m pretending that Ella’s eyes are open.  You can pretend, too!

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Saturday morning, we packed some lunches and the kids into the car and drove the Cherohala Skyway from Tellico Plains, TN to Robbinsville, NC.  From there, we headed back home via the Tail of the Dragon.   The Tail of the Dragon boasts 318 curves in 11 miles.  I don’t know which was more dangerous, the road itself or the copious amounts of gas station snacks we ate that day.

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You can see my entire set of photos for my project 365 {2010} on Flickr.

My family loves to be outside.  Actually, that sentence only tells part of the story, I should have said, my children love to be outside, even when it’s cold. I, on the other hand, do not really care for going outside with them when it’s cloudy and below fifty degrees.   The words, “do not really care,” aren’t 100% accurate either.  What I really meant was, I truly dislike (bordering on hate) going outside with them when it’s cloudy and below fifty degrees.

At school, Carson had made a construction paper kite that he was dying to fly.  All day I’d felt chilled, despite continuously adding layers and rubbing my hands together and announcing, “BRR!  It’s COLD!”  The outside thermometer read forty-four degrees, it was cloudy and windy, and my internal good parenting meter was running low on two (out of ten.)  I mustered up my resolve and finally agreed to go outside, but only after I tried and tried to convince Carson that it was too cold and that watching TV under a warm and cozy blanket would be way more fun than flying a kite.  Since I’m telling the whole story, I only agreed to go outside because it was an excuse to take a few shots for my 365 project.  Had I already taken THE shot of the day, I would have adamantly refused to face the cold weather and commenced a Nick Jr. marathon.

As soon as we went outside, the wind hit us in the face like a sucker punch.  Both Carson and I gasped, then held our breath as we battled our way to the yard.  “See Mommy?  It’s not that cold,” he managed to say through chattering teeth.  He began to run, his construction paper kite pretending to fly behind him.  I snapped a few shots, but hadn’t even had a chance to decide on the proper exposure when Carson stopped running.  His shoulders were hunched in an attempt to form into a tightly wound ball of warmth.

“Why don’t you run, Carson?  You’ll get warm if you run,”  I suggested.

“Uh, Mom?  I think I need to go to the bathroom.”

We made our way back into the house.  “Carson,” I said, “when you finish, we can go back outside.”  (Who AM I??)

“We’ll see,” he said, repeating my go-to phrase that really means, “no we won’t.”

There are a few things I feel like I say on repeat every day.

“GET DRESSED, Carson!”

“Please don’t eat your boogers.”

“Did you remember to wash your hands?”

“No you may not have anymore snacks, it’s almost dinnertime.”

“Carson, stop picking on your sister. One day she’s going to get you back.”

The funniest part was the screeching for help coming from the basket. Ella truly enjoyed her sweet, sweet revenge.