Note to self

I always wanted two children. There's a nice balance with two. Two hands, two parents. I also like to have some semblance of order in my life. When I want to find something in my house I like to know where it is. I like to occasionally go to the toilet on my own. I can't remember what it was like to have 8 hours sleep a night, let alone on consecutive evenings, but I feel like I might like to try it again. One day. It will probably happen in about 10 years or so. And another child would push that date out by another couple of years, at least. 


But my darling husband has other ideas. As one of three he thinks it would be great to have three kids. He cannot give me rational, logical reasons for this. He just tells me that it's what he's always wanted. (I might point out at this juncture that he looks after our children on his own for approximately zero hours per week. Give or take.)


Tim has an uncanny ability to get his own way. So despite the fact that I feel very strongly that two is a great number of children to have, I still find myself occasionally thinking about a third. 


So this is a note to remind myself about the top three reasons not to have a third child for future reference*:


1. There are just not enough hours of sleep to sustain an additional life in our home. 


For example, on Sunday night Beau was up at 11, 12:30 & 1:40 then Jasmine was up at 3, Beau was up at 4 and Jasmine was up at 4:30. I actually wanted to die rather than get out of bed the next morning.

2. Nothing is easy when you have to do it with children. 


There is no such thing as a quick 'drop in'. Both children have to come everywhere with me all the time. Jasmine and Beau both attend my dentist appointments, all of our doctors appointments, Jasmine's swimming lessons, haircuts, the supermarket, the post office, the bank, etc. Both children were present in the room the last time I had a pap smear. Nuff said. 


It's: get the kids our of the house (which in itself can take half an hour of cajoling), into the car, buckle them up, give them something to entertain them for the journey, get the pram in the car, pack the snacks, drink bottles, nappies, wipes, spare undies, spare dress, hats, sun cream, jumpers, and toys for the duration, drive, get out the pram, get out one child and put them in the pram, get out the other child and put them in the pram/tell them to stay off the road, walk into the bank, distract children while waiting in the queue, do the 30 seconds of banking required then repeat in reverse order. 


3. Food is a necessity for life, and it is no longer enjoyable. 


The only time I notice myself eating is when I eat alone. And that happens about once a month. Several days a week I realise at about 3pm that I'm starving and that I haven't actually eaten since breakfast. Why? Because there's not time! In between trying to feed our 2 1/2 year old who doesn't eat anything that's not pink or covered in sprinkles or 99% sugar, and my 10 month old who doesn't eat anything except for breast milk I am turning myself in knots trying to prepare something, ANYTHING that someone will put in their mouth and actually swallow (whilst also spending the other hours of the day trying to prevent Beau from putting other things in his mouth that he might swallow and choke on). 


I DREAD meal times. Three times a day I prepare three separate meals. Only one is eaten. 

So, future self, when Tim is at his coercive best, re-read this post and remind yourself again why two's company and three's a crowd.

* this post is a big fat self-indulgent rant, and is not to say that I don't love my children. I do. I am incredibly grateful to have two fabulous, energetic, healthy kids. Especially when they are both asleep.