Ian and I have tossed the idea of having a third child around (if you read this blog, you already know this) and he has concluded that he is definitely good with 2. He doesn't want 3. I would be okay with 3 (or 4) but I am also okay with being okay that he is okay with 2. These issues have been hard to sort out. I was at a bookstore the other day, in the washroom, and there was a new mom changing her baby's diaper (and he was adorable!) and it pulled very heavily at my heartstrings... I was pretty upset by the time we left that store and I was determined I wanted to have a 3rd child and I dug my heals in and had very little to talk to Ian about that was civilized for the ride to our daughter's school. While we waited for her to emerge from its corridors (she's gone back to public school by her own choice after four years of homeschool, which is another story for another day) my husband was pretty good about attempting to relieve my frustrations and said he would re-examine the idea more fully if I wanted him to (again). I said nothing. We let it go.
"Fascinated by You"
The night progressed. We watched some comedy shows (political satire is my favourite thing in the whole world) and I started to unwind. I had a glass of wine (poured over into a decanter, which makes the entire experience so much better--drink not from the bottle, but from a decanter--it's fantastic!). And we partook of that wonderful herb that I don't think I need to name... In other words, we had quite a party. It was a really fun night that was punctuated by some really really really good sex in the wee hours of the morning. We unabashedly enjoyed ourselves and there was no need to worry about birth-control (vasectomy) and there as no need to worry about little people walking in on us (our kids were in their bedrooms, doing their own things) and there was nothing else to concentrate on other than each other and ourselves. It was pretty great.
So, the next day, though I had to work, was an excellent day. I have never, as far as I can remember, felt so perfectly happy and content as I did yesterday. There was a marked difference in my perspective on the world. Things didn't feel quite so heavy. The idea of having more children (and subsequently fewer days/nights like the one I just described) seemed odd. It made me wonder why I had even considered it in the first place. I realized that there haven't been too many times in my life where I could luxuriate in being concerned with my own wants and needs. Pleasure isn't something I have taken a whole lot of time to seek out until now, not in a pervasive sense, although, don't get me wrong, I have been very active in pursuing my desires (to put it mildly). But, I've never had a day that wasn't laced with something that required so much more of me than I felt I had to give. Does that make sense?
Well, to put it in a fucking nutshell... I was actually able to see myself beyond the realm of motherhood (and housecleaner, and laundry washer, and budget maker) for more than a brief moment. It kind of lingered. I decided I don't want to give that up. I think we have truly made the right decision. I have absolutely no idea what to expect out of life beyond the equation of motherhood (and I still have two kids, of course. One is approaching their teens and the other is already there). Mothering small children is an enterprise that is moving outside the realm of possibility for me and I think I am really and truly okay with that. It's odd. It's really really odd to consider, but it's exciting too. I mean, I have a lot of things I would love to do that doesn't involve being a mother of small children, as precious to me as those experiences have been. I am documenting this (note to self) because I want to remember this feeling when the others well up within me like they did at the bookstore. My journey of self-exploration has a new dimension.