Wrinkly, Little, Screaming, Bald Things

If you haven't read my last post 'Love and Fear' you'll probably want to read that first ;)

If you were to ask me the one reason for choosing to have another child I'm not sure I could quite put my finger on it. It's probably a decision that's been heavily influenced by the way my day starts with my three year old jumping on my bed for morning snuggles, or the way I'm faced with finding ways to deal with his cheekiness without erupting into laughter, or the way he tells me about his day at nursery and I'm lapping his little stories up like they're gold dust. I just love him. I love chatting with him, hanging out with him and making up stupid songs with him.

And then I'm faced with the fact that all I really want is another child, not a baby.

People told me not to wish my time away when my son was a baby, they told me to 'cherish every moment' because it doesn't last long. Well, my first year with him was the longest year of my whole entire life, and although I loved him with more love than you can imagine, I would not like to have that year back again. Sure, I'm grateful for the journey and the things I've learnt but when will people realise that some people just do not enjoy listening to a screaming baby all day? Babies are babies for a year – it seems slightly odd to base a lifetime of parenting on a year long experience. But somehow when you say you want kids, people start shoving babies in your arms as though you're Mary Poppins or something, desperate to coo over wrinkly, little, screaming, bald things.

Give me a boisterous three year old any day.

Well, maybe a little less boisterous.

Suddenly you're a parent and there are all sorts of assumptions put on you. Before you know it you've been signed up for leading the community play group and volunteering at the local infant school. Word got around that you had a kid so they're on your case with workshop manuals and inside info about where to buy PVA glue in bulk.

I start wondering why I'm not a 'mumsy' mum, where did I go wrong? And then I realise that for me it's never really been about having babies at all, but about nurturing little people. That's why I enjoy having my own child; it's about getting to know someone; it's a journey of nurturing a relationship that I do not have with any other child. No, if Im honest, I'm not overly enamoured with hanging out with babies, but I do like hanging out with Albie. He makes me laugh, he's fun to be around, I'm enjoying getting to know him, to learn each day what makes him tick.

So no, I do not want a wrinkly, little, screaming, bald thing; I just want to get to know another little person really well. I want to journey with them so I can teach them things, and so they can challenge me on how to live my life more freely and creatively. No other child can do this in the same way for me because I have not opened up my heart to them in the way I will with my own. I can deal with the hard times, the strops and the tantrums because these are weighed up with the words spoken before bedtime when I'm told I'm loved and sloppy kisses are planted on my cheek. I am prepared for the differences we will have, the future rejections and potential heart ache because I figure that this person is worth fighting for. And although a baby can't do very much and may seem unrewarding, I am buying into the journey of seeing them develop into the unique individual that God intended them to be.

If you haven't read my story about why we decided to have another child you can read it here.