“We need to talk.”
That was my son’s teacher when I picked him up from day care recently.
“Tommy’s been biting kids.”
Then, before I could leave, another teacher stopped me. “You know how he likes to put his hand down your shirt?”
I nodded. I breastfeed my 1-year-old, and he does that sometimes when he’s ready to nurse. I honestly thought it was kinda funny.
“He’s doing it to us now.”
OK. I used to think it was funny.
Now I guess I have two things to work on with him, just when I thought that maybe my husband and I could handle another kid.
From the day my son was born, people were asking us if and when we were going to have another baby. Nurses asked me in the hospital just hours after I gave birth.
“Um, maybe? I need to see how I do with this one first,” I remember saying. I did think about it early on, but then I shook myself. You wanted a baby. You got one.
Now that my son is a toddler, baby No. 2 is on my mind again. But that’s crazy, right? I already barely have time for anything.
I really do think my son would like having a brother or sister. On Halloween night, he had the time of his life watching our friends’ 4-year-old boy run into walls for fun. Tommy could not stop laughing. Tommy followed him up the stairs, into the boy’s bedroom, even into the bathroom — he loved him.
Later on I asked my husband, “Did you see how much fun Tommy was having playing with their kids? Didn’t it make you think that maybe he needs a sibling?”
“No,” my husband said. “I was just happy he was entertained so I could watch the Royals game.”
I know it would be rough, but not impossible. I know plenty of moms who work full time and have two — or more — little kids. It would be easier this time around because I would actually know what I was doing. I’d get to enjoy cuddling a new baby and not be scared out of my mind. I’d take a longer maternity leave. I’d get to use all of the nice baby things I didn’t use for very long.
And my husband would go for it, I think, provided we could still support his Saturday gourmet breakfast sandwich addiction …
Someone, please talk me off the ledge. This is crazy. Maybe I should just focus on getting my one child to stop biting and groping first.
I am 35 — officially advanced maternal age — so I really should make a decision soon. I started packing up my son’s baby clothes the other day, and I asked my husband if I should start giving them away.
“Maybe not yet.”
So apparently my husband is crazy, too.
To reach freelancer Pamela E. Spencer, email firstname.lastname@example.org.