time for snippage?

So we're driving home from work yesterday and, for some reason, the topic of having more children came up.

Now, I don't want to say that Charles is firmly opposed to the idea of one day bearing a sibling for Drew, but...well...OK. He's firmly opposed to it. There's really just no other way to say it.

Me, strangely enough, I'm not completely not opposed to it, if you know what I mean. I always thought that, if I ever had children, I would want to have two. No more, no less. Two boys, two girls, one of each...it didn't matter. But now...

I'm realizing how this sounds, and imagining how one day Drew will tell his therapist, "After me, they decided they didn't want any more children..." but it's not that, really.  In fact, it's kind of the opposite.

Drew is really such a marvelous child that I simply can't picture another child being quite as good. I think it may just be a ginormous letdown, frankly, and wouldn't that be good for several more years of therapy?

I mention this to Charles, who responds enthusiastically, glad to see I'm leaning his way on the two kids vs. only child dilemma.

"But I'm not, like, 100 percent sure yet," I caution him. "I'm only at about 90 percent. I still may decide I want another, so, don't go getting yourself snipped right away or anything crazy like that."

"Wait a minute," Charles retorts. "Who said I'm the one getting snipped? When did we decide this?"

"Well, duh," I say. "One of us has to."

"Why not you?"

"Because it's going to be you.  So therefore, I don't need to."

"Logically, that makes sense. But wait...no it doesn't. That's still assuming that I'm the one getting snipped."

"Look, let's do it this way. If we haven't decided to have another child by the time I'm 39, in three years, then one of us will get snipped."

"OK."

"And I think that 'one of us' should be you."

"I'm not really comfortable discussing this."

"Discussing what? Not having more children?"

"No, discussing anything where the words "snip" and "my private parts" are in the same sentence."

Later that evening, however...

We're sitting at the table eating dinner. Drew is in his new booster seat, which he adores. He is picking up pieces of carrot and squash, stuffing them into his mouth, blowing them out on to the table (once they've disintegrated into a mushy pulp) and then, in a grand gesture worthy of royalty, sweeping the gelatinous mess onto the freshly mopped floor.

Then he begins to struggle against the booster seat restraints, pointing at the floor and grunting.

"Are you ready to get down?" I ask, reaching for him.

"NO!" screams he, clutching the sides of his booster. "NO NO NO NO NO!"

"Oooookaaaay," I say. "No problem, mister."

Squirm, grunt, struggle, point. More grunting. Whine whine whine.

"Drew. Do you want to get down now?"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

"You want to stay and eat?"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" (hurling plate, fork and cup to the floor in rapid succession)

"Pardon me," says Charles. "I think I need to make an appointment for some snippage."

Comments

[Mom]

A little more info than I needed! Aren't twos wonderful?

[ebeth]

Andrew and I have those kind of conversations.. I think men should always be the one to be snipped - I mean - their parts are external, which makes more sense to me. :)

Mary Catherine will most likely be an only child as well - I just can't imagine having two and I really, really like her. Plus, financially, there's no way we could hve two with flying back and forth to home and the lovely private school fees I'll be shucking out in a mere 1.5 months.. Oh well - Drew and Mary Catherine can pretend to be brother and sister if needed. :)

[ebeth]

Oh and I also wanted to add that, Amy's mom, two is NOTHING. It got so much worse after three... :( Now I know why they call them threenagers!

[Amy]

Awww, how sweet! Drew's big sister!
"Mommy, why does my sister live on another continent, and with different parents?"

:-)

[ebeth]

Mary Catherine would love to have a little brother. She's pestering us now about having another baby - the child should go into marketing when she grows up. The other day at the shops, she was picking up stuff and putting it in the trolley 'for the baby'. Too funny. :)