Friday, March 16, 2012
This week I went walking with a friend.
We walked the river on the most perfect day for river walking. She had her fancy new shiny pram with a matching shiny new baby boy in it. I love prams, the right pram can change a Mums day, but that is another story.
When we made it to a park on the other side of the river we sat for my girls, who seemed so gigantic next to the shiny new baby, to have a play and for shiny new baby to have a feed.
My girls were like seagulls, waiting for that feed to finish and then fighting over who got to sit next to shiny new baby.
We had to have a system of one gets to touch his toes, the other his hands, taking turns of sitting closest.
My girls would love a new baby. Immy told her creche carers that Mummy was having a baby, and it is a boy. They believed her and asked me how the pregnancy was going.
That should have fuelled my desire to get to the gym, but I seriously think that part of the brain people talk about, about how they feel so good after the gym, I am missing that section.
Back to the shiny new baby. He is everything a shiny new baby is. Gorgeous, snuggly, sweet, smells of newborn and oh so clean. Clean car seat, clean pram, clean fingers.
And I can very clearly say, I am not in the market for a shiny new baby.
While I really love the idea of big families, I am also well aware of my limits.
I am packing up the bubba stuff and making space for new things, initially I did feel a tiny pang of emotion thinking that the baby days were gone, but then I realised I will never have to scrub the grooves in the highchair again and I knew everything was going to be alright.
Two is the number for us.
How about you? Did you know when you were 'done'? Was it decided for you? Do you think you will ever be 'done'? Do you think you can have too many prams? Should I stop asking questions all the time?