So this morning Buttercup came running up to me with a sense of urgency, screaming "It's not fair! It's not fair!" These words have become increasingly common as of late in our home, and so (once again) I took the moment to tell her that "we don't say 'it's not fair'", and furthermore usually "It is fair". She then looked at me solemnly and stated "Yucky food is not fair!" Then she ran off.
I couldn't agree with the child more. Except that I really do try hard not to serve Buttercup "yucky food". This can be quite a challenge seeing as how she is three years old. Okay, guilty conscience coming on... I did make pumpkin soup last night and I made her eat it. Charming seemed to like it (but he is very polite), and I thought it was okay. Lou Lou just played in her soup and I figured that was passable. Buttercup on the other hand gave her soup the stinky eye until she was threatened with "no treats after dinner". (I am pretty good at being firm in the food department. The children don't have to eat the food--it's their choice. But they also don't get to choose what's on the menu and there are no "treats" if they don't have a specified number of bites.) She finally got up her nerve and quickly sipped the orange liquid into her mouth--which she promptly gagged on and puked back into her bowl. Needless to say I didn't make her eat any more (the rest of us were obviously done as well). I gave her some candy and we moved on with the evening. It now occurs to me that Buttercup is holding all these incidences close to her heart and someday she will throw them back at me during the wrath of her teenage years (heaven forbid). Lucky me!
So my computer is officially all better. We just gave it a band-aid (a.k.a new hard drive) and all is well. Except for all that important stuff I lost such as well-thought-out journal entries and family pics. Luckily there is hope that some of that can be retrieved in the next little while. I'll keep my fingers crossed--because honestly, I'm not gonna write down Buttercup's birth story again (let alone Lou Lou's--that was a complete nightmare and who wants to relive that!).
So anywho, now I have no good reasons not to be blogging frequently--expect perhaps the two little ones that are my progeny.
Here is my non-deep-but-still-heartfelt-thought-of-the-day: I just love October and the approaching of Halloween and thereafter Thanksgiving with all of it's thanks and giving and pie soon followed by the delights of Christmas which pretty much gives me all my happiness and reason for existing! Take a deep breath and just breathe it in. Even more wonderful now is that Buttercup has finally reached the age of greater comprehension and understanding--meaning that I can reexplore the holidays again through the eyes of my daughter. Nothing could be more magical or exciting. Perhaps it will even be better than the first time around.
1-After some time of pondering on the idea, I have finally decided that for security purposes, I am changing my family member's names to protect their identities. Wow, that sounds super Alias. Just call me Sydney--naw j/k--I'll still be Megs. But just so that you're not super confused in future posts, my husband is "Charming", my three-year-old is "Buttercup", and the toddler is "Lou Lou". I really didn't want to make this blog private, so this ought to spice it up a bit!
2-I know it's been awhile since I've posted. Crazy enough, I have plenty of things I would love to express to the world wide web, but unfortunately my computer crashed last week. Obviously that can throw a wrench into my blogging efforts and other online pasttimes. Charming has a laptop, but it is usually with him throughout the day; and often when he comes home it is not a convenient time for blogging etc. Please bless this doesn't last too much longer...
3-Buttercup asked me yesterday why George of the Jungle wears leopard panties. Anyone have an answer for that? Please help.
So continuing on with this whole "to have or not to have" question--I went to the store today (okay so it was Monday and I've been too lazy to blog since then) and had some interesting thoughts. Wal-Mart does not seem to have a very good system for the three-child family. Their kid-friendly carts are not so friendly, they merely seat children (as opposed to the carts with the police car in the front with--count--two buckles). And so I put the little one in the front and the not-so-little-one into the actual cart. She really didn't seem to mind. But seriously--what would I do if I had a third? I couldn't go shopping anymore. There's no way I'm going to ask my three-year-old to just walk and hang on to the cart. I remember doing that as a child and I can assure you it didn't work very well.
Anywho, there is a a story to go with all this wondering and weighing. To keep it short--the older child opened a package of crayons and ripped the paper off the yellow one. The smaller child grabbed a package of hotdogs and bit right through the plastic and then cried when I took it away. And when I thought all was well and we were finally out in the parking lot, the box of 24 tomato sauce cans fell off the bottom of the cart and went rolling all over the pavement in every direction. Never fear--a very nice creepy looking guy with a goatee and a Wal-Mart apron came to my rescue and put it all in my car for me.
My point? Despite what you may think, it is not that it was all too overwhelming and hence a third child is not for me. In fact, when I got in the car and drove away, I was anything but flustered; quite the opposite--I was calm and happy and asking my cute kids what they wanted for lunch when we got home. These seemingly annoying and awful scenes didn't fluster me a bit (well, maybe just a bit at the exact moment I realized they were happening). I don't even think my stress trigger kicked in before I was already doing what was necessary to handle each situation.
Now I'm not over-analyzing, but I think this is a good sign for a potential mother of three (or seven--depending on how cruel my body is to me, and if Jaction will change her mind about the whole "my womb is your womb" thing.) I'll keep you posted. Or maybe not--it's really none of your business, now that I think about it. Just kidding--not in the sense that it's none of your business, but in the reality being that I've posted all my musings on the world wide web for your perusal (much to my husband's chagrin). Okay, I'll stop now.
No, I'm not talking about cookies or pizza--although that is also a daily battle. I'm talking about the age old question of the Mormon mother: Is it time to have another baby?
Even as I type this question my 20 month-old is screaming to sit on my lap. And so it brings to mind even more (seemingly) important questions, such as, do I even have any more room on my lap? I have already become a human jungle gym--put to good use every day--hair, legs and arms are constantly being pulled at. And for that matter, do I have enough arms for three kids? I think not. As of my last count five seconds ago, I only have two of those, and so I don't see how that's going to work. Oh, and what if the final total after my next pregnancy isn't three? I just might be fertile enough to conceive triplets or beyond--seriously, I wouldn't be too shocked (just devastated). Okay, so a multiple birth has maybe a low probability, but there are so many other things to consider. Such as my mental/emotional health. It seems to be doing just fine at the moment, but tends to teeter during pregnancy and postpartum. Ugh.
You could always bring mathematics into the matter (not usually too good of an idea, I get confused easily when it comes to numbers). I have a 3 1/2 year-old, and a 20 month-old, so with their spacing it would seem that I am actually a little behind. Truth be told I did that deliberately--it's probably not necessary to have all your kids spaced the exact same amount of time. But I've been thinking lately that it might be best to just shoot them all out quickly--you know, within the next five years or so--and be done with the job. Then I can raise the (cute) little stinkers, and send them all on their merry way while I travel the world in my early 50's! That doesn't sound too calculated does it? But then I'm afraid I could totally mess up that plan by reaching my pre-determined "quota" of children at an early age, and then become alarmingly baby hungry once again. There would be nothing to stop me from making a rash decision (and trust me, I'm making those constantly), such as the excuse that I'm too old to continue birthing children. You can't say that when you're a chipper 32 years old. And so you see, I don't trust myself, and that puts me in a pickle.
I also get sick when I'm pregnant. Alarming sick. I don't want to dwell on it or I may not have any more babies at all.
But you know it just seems like its about that time. The time when your baby's not looking or acting so much like a baby anymore. And my initial repulsive thought of being up all night with a colicky infant is being replaced by visions of an adorable baby (my babies always are), cooing and laughing and cuddling. And the pure joy of bringing life into the world is so irreplaceable. I love being a mother more than anything else I could imagine. I love my children--with the kind of love you'd be willing to die for. So to create that kind of love once again could only be a beautiful, wonderful thing.
Hmm, I always joke that Jaction would make a wonderful surrogate. That would fix the whole sick thing along with all the mental/emotional problems. What are good friends for? (I probably just lost one of mine:P)
What do you think? Mothers and non-mothers alike, join together and give me your feedback. I need ideas, I need gumption, I need a firm mind.
