How many is enough?

When is it enough?  When do people stop asking?  Will it be when Miss5 actually becomes a Miss25 for real, not just in her own mind?  Will it be when the twin tornado are off winning nobel prizes for phenomenal medical and environmental feat’s?  Shut up…I can dream….

The questions that every parent is asked, time and again…

Are you planning on having any more?

A few things....

 

Have you met the 3 I already have?
 

Don’t mistake the volume of children for me trying to enact that old saying “practice makes perfect”.
 

I’m not competing with Brangelina.  Nor  Jon and Kate plus 8.  And don’t even get me started on Octomom.  Bitch be crazy.  And not for any other reason than already having 6 kids and deciding she totally had the time and energy for EIGHT MORE.
 

Dude, get a TV or take up crochet if you think you've got some spare time on your hands. No more babies.  They're already turning you into  The Incredible Hulk  a person of questionable public image.

When are you having another one?

The more hard-line questioning, operating on the assumption that you will be procreating again.  Because you are so enamoured with your current allotment of noisy, messy, sticky, finance sapping little darlings – that you figured, what the hell? Why not have another?

This question is never asked by a mother of small children.  Only ever elderly ladies who have lost enough of their marbles to have no recollection of what it’s like to have 3 kids under 6 who have no particular sibling bond.  Not unless you count Miss2 occasionally throwing her arm around Mstr2’s neck for a quick squeeze-cuddle, which even more quickly turns into a full-blown head lock, and before you know it *BAM* “Ladies and gentlemen….let’s get ready to rumblllllleeee”.

My official response to any and all questioning re: future procreation :

Hell to the no.

Other appropriate responses include :

• Firetruck** off! (I’m practising word replacement, as I have 3 mini-me’s following me around all day, repeating every firetrucking word I say).

• How much will you pay me?  Because I’ll need a larger home, larger car (note: I will not drive a mini van.  I will require an uber cool SUV which is much more expensive), a Nanny (or two or three…hell, make it 4 so there’s one for me too), a cleaner, a chef, a Shrink on retainer (for all of us), and a Plastic Surgeon on retainer (just me…and maybe #1 Hubby too, if the good Doctor has time after plasticising me).  If you can fund all of that, then I am open for business.

• Do I look like I’m handling these 3 well enough to add to the collection?

• Only if Brangelina agrees to adopt it/them.  Quite likely them, as my lovely Obstetrician informed me that I would be more likely to have twins or TRIP-trucking-LETS than a single pregnancy in future.  In future….what a sweet little old dude, to even think I’d contemplate an in future pregnancy after the twin tornado.  Bless.

• Bananas are too expensive for me to consider any more children.

• If I risk any further Baby Brain symptoms, I may have to tattoo breathing instructions on my person.  Amongst other, less fundamental things.

Whaaaat? It could totally be me....we're both brunette, and umm...ok that's about where the similarities end

But seriously…

I know I bang on a lot about how hair-raising the whole parenting thing is.  And no shit, it firetrucking is.  I’m not a natural at it, nothing about parenting comes easily or logically to me.  But I love the crap outta my feral threesome.  They are completely awesome, and total individuals in every sense.  You wouldn’t even put them in the same family, because they don’t even look remotely similar.  And I like it that way.  I have my 3 individuals, and I’m thrilled, and most importantly – I’m done.

So please quit firetrucking asking me if/when I’m going again, okay?

**Those of you not blessed with children will be the only ones unable to decode my word replacement scheme.  So for you, FiretrUCK, it's not hard to work out, is it? 

Elmo knows about Firetrucks