Saturday was a rarity for us. Although we know lots of people with short ones, spending an entire day with babies is not a common occurrence for us. We spent the afternoon at a birthday party for the two year old daughter of dear friends, and there were two other adorable wee ones in attendance. Watching them laugh, play, fuss, fight over toys and then laugh again is something that will lift 20 years from your age as you giggle at their antics and try to keep up.
In the evening, we were with two other adorable babes as they grinned, giggled and danced the night away.Wave after wave of miniature cuteness from the day carried me away to the point that I looked at Chooch and said, “Really? We’re done having kids?” He gave me a suspicious look as he said, with much finality, “Yes.”
I was as surprised as he was at my question, but the feeling passed as I reminded myself that we made that decision long ago in the hopes of better providing for the children we already have from previous marriages. It was the right decision, especially with the weird medical stuff we’re going through right now and the added difficulty of having our three boys all living so far from us. I’m sure that my constant missing of them contributed to my brief baby craving, and no matter how much time I spend with other people’s kids, it just doesn’t soothe that longing. If anything it makes it more poignant.
No whining – this is my life and I’ve got much to be thankful for, including the health and happiness of the three magnificent young men in my life and heart. Everything else is gravy.
Besides, I’ll be a grandmother someday. Then I’ll be free to purely spoil, rather than parent, the sweet wee ones. That certainly seems like something that is worth waiting for.