image source: iStockphoto
So of the two of us, I've always been the "planner"--the one who's just never satisfied staying solely in the moment, and who has to discuss what our future holds... and then process what that really means, time-wise and/or on paper... and then revisit it again to make sure we're both on the same page. LOL! To know me is to (hopefully) love that aspect of me. *smile* In any event, Derek wasn't shocked when I broached the topic of "So when are we giving Chase his sister/brother?"
Mind you, I was asking this question while still pregnant with Chase.
In my last trimester we were at Babies R Us shopping for our travel system with my father-in-law. I had already picked out the model I liked online. But when we got to the actual store I saw there were lots more color choices available than shown online. So then I was conflicted because the stroller I REALLY liked came in a gorgeous, Tiffany blue color that would be perfect for our baby boy... but wouldn't be fitting for my (future) baby girl. And travel systems are way too expensive to be replacing with each baby, you know? There was a small selection of neutral colored strollers (tan and the like) that were far more practical, as they could be used for any child, no matter the sex. But I didn't like any of those strollers. So I'm standing there, torn, and Mr. E just didn't understand the dilemma. I'd initially pointed out the one I liked, and he was confused as to why I didn't just grab it so we could head to the register.
Derek, at this point, is so over the whole stroller color thing. We've been in the stroller section for about 45 minutes now, so at this point he's emotionally checked out of the situation and just gazing off into the distance with a glazed look in his eyes (likely fantasizing about laying on the couch watching ESPN).
I was reluctant to tell Mr. E my reasons for hesitating, fearing his judgment, but finally broke down and admitted why I was so conflicted. As I'd thought, he was incredulous. He said, "Why are you planning for a baby who doesn't exist? Get the one you like now!"
And I did. That was one of the few times I threw caution to the wind and stayed "in the moment."
To be honest, I'm not sure how I feel about it. Chase's stroller is super cute. But I don't want my baby girl riding in a blue stroller. So did I make a mistake getting it? Yes, I said it. My baby girl... the one who doesn't yet exist! *smile* I took my father-in-law's advice then, but I'm not over it. In my mind, I'm still planning ahead, hence the conversation with Derek about when we're having our next baby.
You see, my older sister (Nabs) and I are 1 year and 4 months apart. Nabs and I have always thought our age difference was perfect. We were two grades apart in school, which allowed us the autonomy within the school setting to spread our wings as we needed, yet we shared many of the same neighborhood friends and were super close as kids. We shared a room for many years, which brought us that much closer, and always had each other's back all the time. I wouldn't trade this relationship. It's wonderful having a sibling/playmate close in age to grow up with.
On the other hand, Derek and his brother are 3 years apart. They're close now as adults, but I believe that happened with time. An age gap so significant must be rough for the oldest sibling, I've always thought. The older an only child gets, the harder it must be to come to terms with the fact that he's about to lose his status as "the baby," as well as lose the undivided attention that comes with being an only child. Derek admits that he had mixed feelings about getting a younger brother "at that time," but feels that now (as adults) the age difference is of no significance. So he thinks our babies should have a large age gap as well.
So with our different experiences dictating our thought process, we really did have to sit and thoughtfully weight the pros and cons of how we wanted to do this. I reminded him that, as a woman who isn't exactly a spring chicken, there are real concerns we must stay mindful of. We don't have the luxury of time on our hands to be spacing children out 3+ years apart. I told him that I want to have any additional babies while I'm young and spry, and while my body is still primed for child-bearing. Having recently undergone a pregnancy, I feel eager and ready to try again soon before it becomes a distant memory and I have to re-train my body, if you will. Derek is a reasonable man, and he understood all these concerns.
So after thoughtful consideration, we came to a fair compromise regarding when we'll start TTC. We've decided that we want the kids to be TWO years apart. Thus, we'd like to get pregnant when Chase is 14 months (8 months away!!!!), which would place our baby girl here sometime in January 2011. *smile* So ever since we came to this agreement (about 3 weeks ago) I've been sooo excited thinking about having this second baby (girl) who is exactly two years younger than her older brother! Perfect timetable, perfect 2.5 kids, perfect plan. Simply perfect. Right? I found myself daydreaming about it throughout the day, and counting down the months until we're ready to start TTC.
Suddenly, like some pesky little gnat, one of my favorite expressions popped into my mind... and once there, it wouldn't be ignored. And it caused me to really start reflecting. It's an old one, I'm sure you've heard it.
"Want to make God Laugh? Tell him your plans."
My most enduring prayer over the last 10 years or so was to ask God to bring a special man into my life. I felt a strong desire to marry and start a family, but alas, hadn't met "the one" even after six years living in NY. By that point I had already decided my (future) husband wasn't in New York, and had begun making active plans to relocate back down south upon graduation. You see, according to my "plans," I should have been married and on Baby #2 five years ago. But even through my impatience, I could always sense God smiling, telling me: "Be patient, child. My timetable will prove to be much more fruitful than yours."
And then I met Derek.
I look back and realize that my unmarried, child-free existence through my 20's was a tremendous Blessing. Firstly, it gave me so much more time to find my spiritual path and grow more fully in God. I had a (somewhat unstable) relationship with Him prior to moving to New York, but really got "right" with Him during my time living in Brooklyn. Through my singleness, I had time to write my dissertation and balance four jobs while in a rigorous doctoral program. I wouldn't have been able to complete this program (within the time frame that I did) with a new baby. I couldn't even imagine coming home to manage a household, a baby and a husband, and school work. Something would have been compromised--be it family life or studying--and both are such passions of mine that would have broken my heart. Living alone and unattached allowed me to stay on campus and work--squirreling money away into a high interest Money Market account that would otherwise have been spent on expensive city living and family life. My singleness gave me time to learn to decorate cakes and hone my other creative talents, like scrap-booking, building display rooms for my collectible dolls, and learning about black hair care. It also allowed time for me to give back to the community through volunteer work with local organizations. And through all of this, I've had the past 10 years to grow greatly in ways I couldn't have imagined.
So with that said, my "timetable" for Baby #2 is slowly becoming less rigid in my mind. Oh, I'll always be a planner! That's just how "I do." LOL! But with the renewed awareness that I'm not the one in ultimate control, it allows me to relax a bit and not be as stressed as I otherwise would. When the time comes for us to begin trying to conceive, we'll do so with the awareness that ALL things happen when they're supposed to AND for a reason. And that reason isn't always known to us right away, but is usually revealed in time. Chase came as a surprise to both of us--but Derek and I whole-heartedly agree that he was the best thing that has happened to either of us, and really, the timing couldn't have been more perfect. We wouldn't change one thing about how our lives unfolded with the arrival of our son. So I'm going to keep that in mind if my "plans" don't turn out exactly as I'd hoped. If not in 14 months, we'll get our baby girl when we're supposed to!
And that's good enough for me! *smile*
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So I've decided that every Friday I'm going to feature a recipe, either from one of my readers or my own kitchen. This will be a wonderful way to share your favorite dish or to learn new ones to make for your family!
So fast forward three weeks, the hair around my ears started to get longer and I wanted a trim to preserve the sexy sharp cut I was rocking. I had a "friend"(he was really just trying to talk to me) who was a barber and he swore up and down that he could give me a "trim" for like eight bucks, so me being on a budget said sure.
Okay, so I go to the barbershop and sit in his chair. I'm the only female in the place, so of course all of the guys were being uber nosy when he was cutting my hair. "D" as I'll call him, was talking about how my hair is dry and uneven, but he'll do his magic and hook me up. Mind you, I only asked him to trim a little off the edges and the back to tighten up my hairstyle.
I knew something was up when D turned my chair around so I couldn't see the mirror, and started breaking out his clippers and stopped talking. When I looked at one of the other barbers face, and saw his facial expression that was trying so hard to hold back laughter, I knew it was bad business.
D's fool behind knowing he jacked me up, kept talking about how cool and alternative I was, and how I could rock a mohawk, blah blah blah. When he finished slaughtering my hair, and gassed me up telling me how good I looked, I looked in the mirror.
This was 2004 and he gave me a Grace Jones flat top! I couldn't believe it, I started crying, when I should have cussed him out. To make matters worse, there were no other females in the place to console me, and I could see some of the dudes laughing and saying "Yooo! Look what he did! He messed shorty up".
I ran to the 99cents store to buy a cheap nylon winter hat it looked so bad. A cross between a permed gumby and mohawk.
When I went home, my roommates were pissed at him....but they still cracked up laughing in my face.
The next day I had a baldie. When D saw me he felt so bad, I was so pissed and couldn't speak to him.
Moral of the story? Don't trust a straight man with clippers.