I’m not sure if it’s purely the nostalgia of being back home and doing so many of the things we used to do as children and young adults, or simply a side effect of getting older and my maternal clock ticking oh so loudly in my ears but for the last three days I’ve done an awful lot of mental arguing with myself. I really really really want another baby. That would be number three, and ridiculous and something I’d written off ages ago and yet, the thought is now prominent enough that I’ve said it out loud. I’ve asked Willie, I’ve asked the boys. I’ve played around with scenarios where this is a good idea and many where it’s not.
With a 4 and a 6-year-old, we have regained so many of our pre-baby habits back. Lazy lie-ins are a reality (not frequent but still real and tangible), trips exploring new countries are not only on the cards but they’re fun! We can spend an entire day out of a hotel room, driving around, investigating and discussing cultures, beliefs, sights and sounds. We can go somewhere at the drop of a hat, no sterilisers, no nappy bags, no 7 outfit combinations for one day just in case of explosive accidents and inevitable spills. Nap times are no longer cast in stone, tantrums are reduced to a minimum. I can sit, somewhere, anywhere for longer than a second. They can pee and poo and I’m not involved! I can pee and poo and they’re not involved.
Surely Liam, our quiet, little introvert with a wicked sense of humour cannot be a middle child, I’m not sure he can ever be anything but my baby. Can Mr Extrovert Joshua share even more of his attention? Patiently wait once more for a tiny tot to finish a feeding or a tantrum before exploding into a monologue about how big the universe is or the latest Minecraft texture pack
So why is it, that with all the plentiful reasons for why this is not a good choice, not a responsible choice, not even a choice that makes sense on paper or in dreams am I still toying with it? Am I still not able to convince myself to put it out of my mind for longer than a few hours?
Is it because I’m longing for the days when the choice was not obvious and the future, not so cast in stone? Is it because my Dubai Village consists of so many new mommies and mommies to be, that makes me long for the experience of waddling through pregnancy in pairs and clandestine breastfeeding in public. Is it because my two little tots are two little tots no more? Because I no longer get tearful hugs at school but shy and self-conscious waves? Because I’m asked about evolution and the internet and not about a dummy or comforter?
Or maybe I have merely become a smug mummy who has forgotten the torture of sleepless nights and the rows of bottles waiting to be sterilised and so naively think I’ve got this! Perhaps I should wait a month, or an hour, for the other shoe to drop and the next melt-down to start. Or maybe, I should get a cat – cat’s sleep….a lot…unlike our babies…