They will never be any smaller than they are at this minute. It's enough to bring tears to my eyes.
I have already had a taste of the nostalgia: there are several bins in the basement that house teeny tiny clothes that the boys wore about a hundred years ago. Teeny tiny clothes that will not be worn by any more babies of mine. Officially.
It's been a crazy month for us on many levels. Our buyers got the clear to close and we signed the P&S on our new house. We have a big day coming on September 30, which means it's time to start getting ready to go. In preparation for packing, I have been in complete clear out mode for the past couple of weeks. I look at a particular item and ask myself, "Do we need it? Have we used it? Will we ever use it again?" If the answer is no to any of these questions, it's gone and therefore we don't have to move it. I am a member of several Facebook buy/sell groups and I can't believe how much I have sold! And...a lot of the stuff is...baby stuff (sniffle). This move has really forced me to answer that "Will we ever use it again?" question when it comes to this category of belongings. I am confident now that the answer is no - Ashton and Alex are it for us (insert a dizzily happy face and also a sobbing mess face). So, the toys, swings, jumpers, swaddle blankets and anything having to do with babies? All gone to new homes. I even sold my breastpump and all the bottles and spare parts.
While our move is the impetus for this blog post, I have been thinking for a long time now that I am done having babies and for many reasons.
1. We are blessed with two healthy boys. What if we had a third and weren't so lucky? I don't worry about having enough love for another baby, no matter what the case, but I'm afraid of the immense challenges and heartache it could bring. I am much more scared of this than I was when we had Ashton and Alex, I'm not sure why. Perhaps because I feel like asking for another perfect baby would be tempting the fates.
2. We'd be outnumbered. I know, I know. Kids are little for a short amount of time in the grand scheme of things, but I barely manage with two. I cannot see past trying to get three kids to the grocery store, or to the beach, or to bed every night for that matter!
3. In the same vein, even though it's only for the first year, it's 365 straight days of breastfeeding, pumping, and exhaustion from all the middle-of-the-night wakeups. But that's 365 days AFTER you've been pregnant for 266! Been there, done that. Twice. "Body for one, please."
4. There's enough people in this world already.
5. What if it's a girl? I'd need ALL new stuff. What if it's a boy? Because, three boys! It's a no win situation that's what.
So, no more babies. I'm excited to look ahead now. The days where our schedules are not ruled by naptime(s), tantrums, diapers, sleep-training, messy highchairs, baby-proofing etc. are much closer than if we were planning to start all over again for a third time.
The boys and I meander around the neighborhood and down to the playground every day. They walk beside me, one to my left and one to my right, and I have a hand for each. My two little peas, my perfect number.
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