Exploring "I Am Done" with Kate and Lydia

Kate and I have lately been exploring the concept of: "I am done." Here's why. The other night, my husband and I were discussing the holidays. He told me that he would like a new baby for Christmas. "Where do you plan on getting one at such short notice?" I joked. Silence. Long silence. Oh dear. He actually wants another one. I stared at him. He stared back. "We can stop at four," he said, totally serious.

So I call Kate and she said the same thing had happened to her. She shares the following story: "When McLovin had the notion for one more, he came bearing a very full, and full-bodied, glass of Merlot, which tends to guarantee his victory. However, he failed to plan (by bringing along the whole bottle) for my reaction (downing said glass of wine in 3 seconds) to his kind proposal. I'm left contemplating months 57-76 of gestating and breast-feeding. With an empty glass.

K: Can you conceive?
McL: Ummm, no.
K: If I conceive, can you gestate?
McL: Pretty sure not.
K: Do you have some other wife that I don't know about?
McL: No, mostly because I like my body parts where they are.
K: Looks like you're out of luck my friend.
McL: Hmmm, maybe. How about some more wine?
Me: Well, yeah. But don't think I'm changing my mind. I like my body parts where they are too."

I consider Kate's wisdom carefully. It appears my husband and I are at an impasse. He wants one more baby, I'm all set with the three we've got. I am not 100% certain that I will never want another baby. I've thought about it a lot. Babies, in theory, are lovely. But my youngest just started walking. My older kids need constant attention if there is any hope of avoiding juvenile delinquency.

Then there's being pregnant. Pregnancy for me was like 40 weeks of the worst hangover ever. It was all puking and exhausted grouchiness and random strangers invading my personal space and talking about my lady parts. Kate, however, loved being pregnant. She says she just doesn't need the person at the end of it. For her, the first three weeks with said bundle of joy was the hangover. I can really see her point. Am I done?

Its usually pretty straight forward when someone is done. Before the question is even out, they are clear about their done-ness. The conversation goes like this:

Lydia: "Are you planning on ha--"
Friend who is done: "NO. Hell no."
Lydia: "Umm... Ok then."
Friend who is done: "We will not discuss this again. I. Am. Done."

So help us out, friends. Let's make up a Top Ten List. The Top Ten Reasons You Know You're Done Having Kids. Here's some examples that Kate and I have come up with. You know you're done having kids when:

1. You will automatically become a Mormon if you have one more.
2. Realizing there is no such thing as "bunk-cribs", you will be forced to design and execute the building of one from sticks in the back yard and other found objects.
3. When you ask your doctor about birth control, and he suggests pills, IUDs or the Patch, you say, "No, I was thinking more along the lines of actual steel doors...maybe a moat...a dragon could be cool too."
4. You start making absurd deals with your husband. "Dear, remember when you said how much you'd just LOVE to have a pool table in my dining room. Yeah, I think it's a great idea. Screw Thanksgiving dinner; we can totally eat on TV trays. Yes, just like the pilgrims did. I think we just need to move the China cabinet, getyouavasectomy, and move the table into the kitchen. Done and done."

Leave your suggestions for the Top Ten reasons in the comment box below or join us on Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/pages/RANTS-FROM-MOMMYLAND/169526159247?ref=ts) and leave them there. We know that you are hilarious and brilliant, so come on! We'll post the funniest ones next Tuesday. Please! Kate thinks I need all the help I can get. She's right. Help us come up with the Top Ten, Top Sixty, or Top 365, just so I can have a reason every day for a year. Thanks in advance, mommies. You rule.

Share