At first, I thought we could just play rock, paper, scissors and call it a day. "Whoever wins gets to decide how many kids we have?" But then I realized I'm bad at that game - and it probably isn't the best way to make such a big life decision.
So then, I decided to let time make the decision for us. "Ahh, the easy way out!" Surely, over time one of us would change our minds. Then - no one has to make a decision. Hurray!
But alas, here we are, two kids and four years later and time isn't helping anybody. "Screw you, time, and your tickety-tickety-do-nothing-for-anyone-ness." (That's my way of yelling at TIME. Asshole.)
Anyway, we're at a standstill. I want three kids. My husband wants two kids. Compromising on two and half kids isn't an option. So. Here we are.
My practical husband has all of the valid arguments. If this were a court case, the judge would be slamming down her mallet in an instant "It's decided! Based on your husband's arguments listed below, you shall have two children!"
-The world is built for families of four
-Children are expensive
-The more children we have, the less time we have to spend with each of them
-We're just starting to climb out of the trenches of early parenthood. Life is good - why fuck with it?
And all of these practical and truthful points. How can I possibly argue with them?
"But I just feeeeeeeeel like we're meant to have a third baby (pats ovary lovingly.) I can't explain it! Plus, I just want to smother myself in a pile of our offspring! More toes to nibble, more cheeks to kiss! More cradle cap to pick (that's more of an added bonus.)"
Truthfully, I understand where my husband is coming from. There is a huge part of me that doesn't really want to be pregnant again and go through the exhausting early baby years. Heck - I still don't have children who sleep through the night! BUT...when I fast-forward down the road 10, 15, 20 years? I want three kids. I want more people to celebrate birthdays with! More people at Christmas! More people to look after me in my old age! Ha!
Sure, there will be fewer family vacations to exotic places if we have a third child, and maybe each kid won't get to take piano lessons, play a sport, and be dressed in the latest fashions. But who cares?
Most parents today are going overboard with the extracurricular shit anyway, right? If we have a third child, it makes the decision for us to slow down.
"Sorry kiddo. We'd love to allow you to play hockey and lacrosse, but...we had a third child. So technically, it's their fault. Now you and Scapegoat Jr. go outside and work this out yourselves, will you? Thanks!"
Problem solved. See? I think I just found my leading argument (and a fun new name) for our third child!
This writing thing, sure is helpful and therapeutic, isn't it?
To be honest: if we don't end up having a third child, I won't be gutted and heartbroken. I do have two healthy and amazing children as it is. I count my blessings daily, and I fully realize how fortunate I am. But I think I'll always lovingly pat my ovary and think, "...what if?"