Balin's almost a year. He's crawling well and practically walking. If he could get past his psychological issues, he'd probably be bipedal by now. He's learning sign and already has about 5 words that he uses consistently under his belt. He's an excellent helper: he doesn't hesitate to put toys back in the toy boxes and baskets, although it doesn't seem to work for chores like loading the dishwasher. People comment on his gorgeous red hair. I suppose every baby has some feature people remark on. Arthur had his eyelashes, Balin has his hair. He eats like there's no tomorrow, though I can tell he's a bit pickier than Arthur.
Already people are asking me if we're going to have another, sometimes jokingly and sometimes not. I always say no, that we're not going to have another because I would go crazy. People laugh, but I don't think that they realize I really would go crazy.
I can't even imagine another pet, let alone another person in my tiny home. I can't imagine how many more times I would hear the word, "Mommy!" or how many times I have to say, "Damnit, leave your brother alone!" or "Can't I just have 5 minutes to myself?" One was easy. Two is difficult, but not impossible. When I think about how much more I would have to endure with three, I feel a panic attack coming on. Three seems way out of my league. Three seems like struggling in quicksand with a fifty-pound weight on my back. Some days I can barely survive with two...what makes people think I could handle 3?Most people who ask are grandparents. They love grandkids because they don't have to raise them. They don't have to feed them, or clothe them. They don't even have to play with them if they don't want to. They don't have to carry them around for 40 weeks or give birth to them. They don't have to breastfeed them or satisfy their needs. They don't have to reason with them or convince them that mashed potatoes do not belong on walls (or hair or clothes or their brother). Granted, there are many grandparents who raise their grandkids and become parents all over again. They are the exception. I'm sure if they had a choice they would rather spend their retirement years in Maui or Turkey or Mexico than be parents all over again. Gods bless you.
Parenting is a thankless job and I'm tired of being under appreciated. I don't want to have any more kids because I'm tired of being swamped with demands and expectations. I'm just done. I'm ready to be a bit selfish and take some time for me. Some people want to be around their kids all the time. I think those parents are the crazy ones.
We went to dinner at Robinson's new Home Teacher's house. He has a wife, five kids, and another on the way. The husband looked chipper, upbeat, and even played and wrestled with the kids. The wife looked exhausted. Mostly she looked like she was done with the pregnancy (she's due in May), but I could detect the same feeling I get when I feel like I'm fighting a losing battle with my kids: the need and desire to be with yourself...just being.
There was so much noise at that house. Kids screaming and fighting and talking...all the time. Her world revolves around those kids, their needs, and their wants. Being a good Mormon wife and mother, she has probably sacrificed everything she wanted to do just to have a family. And while I do admire her for that, I wonder if she ever regrets her decision or if she just writes it off as "Satan giving her dark thoughts" and then prays about it. Anyway, I'm not going to discuss this further in this entry simply because it is a bit off topic - it was something I was wondering but will probably never ask or get an honest response.
Let's just say I'm just not that type of person. I'm ready to travel again (thank goodness for the Chilkoot this summer!) and appease my adventurous spirit that's been chained up for way too long. I find myself planning "me vacations" because I yearn for time to just explore the world. Without the kids. Without the husband.
Just me.
Blessed be.
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