I Kissed a Baby Boy and I Liked It


Today I got to spend the day with a sweet seven-month-old boy.  Today I got reacquainted with exersaucers and baby food. Today I got to watch a baby pull himself up and smile and look with wonder at his new surroundings. Wow. How could that stage seem like so long ago?

Yes, time always seems to evaporate when you watch your children grow and change each day. But days like today—days that give you a real glimpse of the past in time machine like fashion—holy cow.

I try so hard to remember Charlie at that age. I look at baby pictures and see those big blue eyes and a toothless smile coupled with her old man pattern baldness, and I can’t help but smile myself. I want to be transported back to that day because I miss my baby. I love my little girl. But I miss my baby.

There is obviously only one solution here: have another baby. Right? Right.

Oh, if it were only that easy.

Today, I also caught a glimpse of what Charlie would be like as a big sister—jealous.

She was enamored with the baby. “Mommy, there’s a baby!” she screamed as she knocked on the bathroom door when our visitors arrived.

The baby’s mom brought a bunch of his toys. No sooner would the baby choose a toy to play with, and Charlie would decide that she wanted that toy and she’d swipe it from his chubby little fingers. “I don’t wanna share!” she’d exclaim.

Sharing is hard for a two-year-old, I know that. But I didn’t know they resorted to straight up stealing. “That’s my toy!” she’d insist.

Then, I was holding the baby and Charlie whined until I held her on my other hip.

Then she hopped in his pack-n-play.

Then she got one of her blankets and insisted I wrap her in it and rock her like a baby. So I rocked her on my lap and I sang her “Rock-a-bye Baby” and she smiled.

Then she stole his bib and put it on herself.  (Never mind that she had downright refused any and all bib wearing as soon as she was old enough to figure out how to rip them off. Today, however, a bib was a necessity.)

Now I know none of this behavior is surprising for a jealous little toddler, and there’s all sorts of ways to deal with it if it were necessary.  Maybe, just maybe, despite it all, I wish it were necessary.

Because I also caught a glimpse of Greg playing with a little baby boy alongside his little girl. Suddenly (or not so) a family of three seemed so… small.

My mind went back to that place.  The place where I yearn for another child. The place where I want to use phrases like, “Give that to your sister” or “Be nice to your brother.”

Maybe once Greg and I get settled here, we can look into adoption. Or surrogacy. We talk about it from time to time. That would be nice.

But if I had to be completely honest, it’s doubtful we’ll really have the financial resources to do that. And we’re no spring chickens now, so that makes our options more limited. By the time we would be ready, we’ll be that much older and that much more tired.

No, it’s more likely that Muffin will be our only one. And she’ll have a great life and parents who adore her. Our family of three may be small, but we’re a good family. Of course, there’d  be room for another– because you never know.

Digiprove sealCopyright secured by Digiprove © 2010 Kelly Stevens

Leave a Reply