Have you ever been curious what it’s like in my house?
Well, I can show you.
It’s exactly like this:
I mean, I love my children… but four is a lot of kids, especially when two of them are less than a year old.
The thing is, for the most part, it’s a really happy household. I’ve been really lucky in that my mom and stepdad essentially put their life on hold for the year and have been staying with us more often than not. The good news is that their sacrifice has kept me sane.
The bad news is that, unlike most children who have a bunch of jealousy issues and upheaval whenever a new baby enters the family, my older boys think that babies are a piece of cake.
I mean, why wouldn’t they? More babies = more time with their grandparents AND having someone around the house who actually manages to get laundry done in a timely fashion.
Unfortunately for them, I have a more realistic view of how much work babies actually are.
I walk into the room after changing Magpie, and plop her down on the floor in front of DragonMonkey. He immediately pounces on her and scoops her up, squishing his face against her cheek in what appears to the world’s most uncomfortable kiss.
I give her about 6 more months before she explodes when he does that… but that’s a different matter entirely.
Luckily she’s still young, and since she was born with the same inherent personality of a golden retriever puppy, she simply smiles and waves flaps her arms happily.
“She’s getting too big,” DragonMonkey remarks in an overly adult tone.
“She is growing fast,” I agree, grabbing the Kraken from where he is whining in his swing, pulling him close to nurse him.
“Too fast” he says, and suddenly he looks mournful. He pulls Magpie closer again, burying his face against her cheek again.
“That’s what babies do.” I am not giving him my full attention – that’s because my full attention is focused on the Kraken, who has developed a terrible habit of grabbing at me with his pinchy, pinchy hands every time he nurses. I don’t know why he does this – it’s not like I don’t nurse him every chance I have…. but it’s never enough. To be honest, I’m not necessarily sure he’s even that attached to me. If I could physically detach my boob and leave it with him while he lay placidly in his swing, I’m pretty sure he’d stay there till he was 25.
And if that’s not a creepy thought, I don’t know what is.
Wait…. where was I?
Ah, yes. As the majority of my attention was being spent avoiding getting mauled by baby hands, I didn’t realize that DragonMonkey was “having a moment” until the living room became too still.
I glanced up, and there he was – eyebrows furrowed and eyes genuinely sad. “I don’t want them to grow up. I don’t want them to grow up too fast. Then we won’t have babies in the house any more.”
Isn’t that kind of the goal? “Yeah, that will be sad, honey.”
“I like having babies in the house.”
“Me too, honey, but all babies grow up.”
Suddenly, his face brightens. It’s obvious he’s had an idea – you can practically see the light bulb flashing over his head. “I know! You can have lots more babies.”
The image fills my mind… and for a second, I just sit there, horrified. “Wait…. what?”
“You can have more babies!”
“Uhhhh, yeah. No way. Sorry, honey. These are all the siblings you’re gonna get.”
“But they’re growing up too fast!”
“Yeah, but the answer isn’t just to be perpetually pregnant and have an endless stream of babies. That’s not going to solve anything. TRUST ME.”
“But I like babies.”
“Me too, but if you want more, then you’re gonna have to grow up and have some of your own….. OWWW. OW – NO PINCHING, KRAKEN. Yeah, no more babies. Sorry, DragonMonkey.”
“But…. But I like them. It’s sad that they’re growing up too fast.”
“Yeah, well…. that’s the way the cookie crumbles.”