where wildly different is perfectly normal
Is three really the new two?
Is three really the new two?

Is three really the new two?

I have two friends who are pregnant right now. That’s not really news, but they’re both pregnant with their third children. Both of them have girls in A’s kindergarten class and kids J’s age. I can’t imagine being pregnant today. I would rather walk over this torture device. Who the hell comes up with these things? See, I’m ok with tall buildings, but nothing under my feet? Hyperventilation time. St. Louis Arch? Never again. Stairs where you can see through the staircase? Elevator, please. But I digress.

I’m not a good pregnant woman. If the world depended on me to repopulate the species, we’d die out. Leave the globe to the dolphins. Now, I have not slammed and bolted the door on international adoption, but God help Tom’s urologist if I suddenly show up preggers.

When did three become the new two? Tom is from a family of three, I’m from a family of two. There are good and bad sides to both kinds of families. We traveled more when my brother and I were kids, with Tom’s family it’s an event when all the kids are home. My mom was from a family of four, my dad an only child. It’s a riot to get my mom’s whole family together and since they “adopted” my dad, it’s double the fun. Few of my friends growing up had more than one sibling; in fact, right now I’m having a hard time coming up with more than one.

But today I’m seeing more and more families with three kids. It’s surprising, in a “huh, look at that” sort of way. My hands are so full right now that I can’t imagine adding another child to the mix today. There’s certainly enough love to go around, and we could afford another child, but I’m pretty sure my sanity is stretched to the max right now. In a few years…well, that’s another story. But another kiddo today would probably do me in.

Whaddya think?

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