Eau De Bebe

My brain is telling me “No more babies”. So is my uterus. It’s not good for my social life, sex life, and also my sanity. 18 months of being pregnant plus 6 months of postpartum recovery and a lifetime of being driven up the wall all make compelling reasons NOT to make another baby. And don’t even get me started on the delivery, which only a hardcore masochist would want to inflict on themselves.

I’m totally loving not being pregnant. No swollen ankles, midnight cramps, numb fingers, backaches and insomnia. I can jump around and drink all the alcohol coffee in the world without worrying that my baby is going to come out all messed up. It’s also nice not having to drag a huge ass (mine, not the kid’s) everywhere I go.

So it’s gotta be weird that I’ve already got names for my next 2 kids, hopefully both at the same time. My next boy will be Travis and if it’s a girl, she’ll be Hailey. The names are so cute that I’ve just gotta make sure I make a couple more babies. Insane, RIGHT? As it is, 2 kids are way more than I can handle, but I can’t help myself. I’m like a crazy baby-making machine. MORE BABIES, muahahaha…

On some level, it’s an attempt to hold on to their infancy and babyness for as long as I can because time just passes you by so quickly and before you know it, you’ve got a couple a gangly, awkward teens on your hands.

Tru is growing up so fast it scares me sometimes. It seemed like just yesterday when he was all wide-eyed wonder and helpless flailing limbs. Now all I can do is wonder what happened to his helplessness as he destroys yet another electrical appliance in my house. And all I have are the moments where I held him tight, smothered him with kisses and tickled him senseless all stored up in my head. With every passing day, I have to come to terms with the fact that his days as a baby are numbered.

That’s pretty much why we made Kirsten in the first place (besides the fact that I’m addicted to pain and I need counseling). So that there’ll still be another baby to smell and kiss and cuddle and relive the babyness. In spite of all the whining and griping about how my life sucks and I am sleep-deprived and my boobs are killing me, all it takes is that little smile and gurgle for me to feel like it’s all worth it. Every bit of it.

The husband says we cannot keep making babies “just so that I can smell them”, and my head actually agrees. But I don’t know, the smell of a newborn baby is probably the most awesome smell in the world. Plus I ALREADY HAVE NAMES. That’s gotta be a good enough reason.