Number Two

I am so not into being a parent. I love my daughter, I really do, but I am never going to get
excited about mom-to-mom sales or soccer practice or anything where I’m forced to identify
myself as a parent. I have no problem telling people I’m Cookie’s mom, but I stay away from
calling myself “a mom.” Delusions, semantics, whatever…I’m struggling with my identity here, people, so just give me the benefit of the doubt. I’m raising my child in a safe, loving, stimulating home, and that’s the important thing.

But now everyone I know seems to be pregnant (including our own Tightrope Mama — I’m sooo excited about that pending arrival!) or has just had their second child. I’m not entirely sure why— it was actually a pretty mild winter, so was there just nothing on TV? This means the big question — “Are you going to have another?” — comes up a lot in conversation, and when it does, I panic. I just don’t know how to answer it. Part of me wants a vibrant home full of fridge art and people who love and support each other, not a quiet little WASPish cluster of three, but part of me wants to just be ME. Not a parent. With one kid, you can come off as being a fun, funky couple who just happens to have an adorable, brilliant child; you can travel and eat in nice restaurants with minimal chaos; you can wear nice clothes a good forty percent of the time. But with two, you’re a “family.” All of a sudden, preparing healthy snacks and researching organized activities is your life, rather than something you sneak in during commercial breaks of The Daily Show after the kid has gone to bed. Restaurant dining happens at the McDonald’s with the best play place. Laundry is a career unto itself. I totally realize that I can be a parent and be my own person, but I’m pretty sure that with more than one kid that would only realistically be feasible if I had help (see our “I Don’t Know How She Does It” post or, say, Angelina Jolie, and you’ll understand). Well, I don’t want help. I don’t have room.

Keep in mind that this is just my point of view, reflecting my limitations. You may have
boundless energy and willpower and babysitters in your Contacts folder, so you’re entitled to
disagree. But I think it explains part of why I’m so hesitant to jump right in and get pregnant.

And then there’s the family dynamic. Hasn’t our relationship already suffered enough? Will
Cookie continue to thrive? I’m so looking forward to finding time to watch this documentary on CBC, Sibling Rivalry: Near, Dear and Dangerous, about siblings who hate each other. That should add some fun shit to the debate.

When I confess my misgivings about having a second to people, they inevitably ask, “How does your husband feel?” I wish I knew. When I ask him, he says he’s just as baffled and on the fence as I am, but he’s probably just humouring me. Really, all I want is a strong opinion, one way or the other, just this once. Please?

On top of everything, we’re operating under a deadline. As my doctor likes to remind me, I’m
running out of time. Charming. Decisions must be made. The debate will continue.

-East End Mama

[image: big sister tee via etsy]