Sunday, 17 November 2013
I'm in two minds as to whether to be concerned over his current habit of walking around with a butter knife which he routinely pilfers from the kitchen drawer. It started the other day when I caught him trying to saw a leg off a wooden cow with it... then today I caught him venomously stabbing a large cardboard box with it, repeatedly. I'm terribly tempted to check beneath his pillow seeing as I co-sleep with him, not that I'm paranoid. Honest.
The Husband calls The Toddler, the greatest contraception and at times will blame him for his declaration that there shall be no more minions. Personally I think he's just trying to shift the blame of the decision from himself, transferring it to The Toddler seeing as I probably rather like The Toddler more at times. I admit The Toddler is somewhat tempestuous and dramatic. Okay, he can be a total pissant. However, he's also utterly charming and tremendously sweet. Granted when you disagree with him he'll cover his ears and tell you he's not listening to you, or throw himself face down on the sofa or bed to blank you. Then there's the diva door slamming, the throwing things at us and the 'I'm not talking to you. Don't ever talk to me again. Get out of my face. I don't want to see you.' etc that he's prone to shout at us when he doesn't get his own way, well mostly at The Husband to be honest. However, he is an absolute darling, he's terribly affectionate, incredibly funny, alarmingly imaginative and gorgeous to boot. He just hates being told no.... and has a habit of trying to beat his siblings up...and scaring The Cats.
At night, after his bedtime feed, he'll curl up to my back, and fiddle with my hair whilst draping his small pudgy arm around me until he falls asleep. Occasionally he'll request a song, he's obviously a masochist requesting to be tortured with my singing. Last night he asked for Baa Baa Black Sheep. Then Baa Baa White sheep. Followed by Baa Baa Grey Sheep, Baa Baa Orange Sheep, Baa Baa purple Sheep and Baa Baa Blue Sheep. Me thinks he was taking the piss. I did attempt to draw the line after the grey sheep yet he started to shriek and well, pick your battles and all that. Still it marked a change from his often obscure topics of conversation like 'have you ever seen someone eat a bagel outside?'
I wouldn't change him for the world.
Yet I'm becoming increasingly aware that the years are slipping through our fingers and soon he shall be a little boy and then a big boy, then a teen and then a man. I'm not ready for him to be my last baby. The Husband and I no longer 'discuss' the fact that he has decided no more children. We have three and I love them dearly, they are my entire universe. Yet, I can't stop the yearning for one more. I'm just not done. I'm not ready to have no more babies. Of course they're enough, they're more than enough yet there's still that dull ache in my womb and a weight in my heart. The sighs are swallowed and never breathed any more. The decision has been made. I can't change his mind. It doesn't make it easier though. Just because I no longer talk about it, doesn't mean I'm happy about it. It doesn't erase the deplorable sadness inside. I understand his reasons, every one of them. I do. I realise there's so many reasons not to increase our family again, really, practical and rational reasons. Sensible and good reasons. Valid reasons. Yet what is the heart if not irrational? I can't explain the need for one more nor can I give reason to it. I can't answer the why, other than with a why not? I'm so terribly, desperately. sad. I've accepted it because there is no other option, it doesn't stop the sadness though.