I don't know how you do it

Last week, the temperatures were below freezing for three of the five days.  Tomorrow, they're predicting three inches of snow mixed with rain and sleet.  However, today, in a turn of events only Tennesseans are used to, it was in the upper sixties.  It is quite strange to be in jeans and t-shirts and see the creeks frozen over (and by the way, they didn't thaw today). 

Due to today being my BFF's youngest' birthday party, I had taken the day off work.  When I saw that the weather was going to be super nice, I decided to take my brood to the zoo.  We have a membership, and we were already going to drive right past it for the party, so why not?  I only wish my husband had been off work to go with us. 

 

 

As happens quite often in the South, we were walking along and a complete stranger, who happened to be walking beside us, struck up a conversation.  You might should know that (as mentioned before) my husband wasn't there with us, so it was just me with all three kids.  I was wearing the baby in the wrap, and the two girls were riding in the stroller.  They were all three being very calm, collected, and other than asking to go to the playground every two minutes, rather quiet. 

 

The conversation began like this (after a bit of "you're so handsome" to my son): 

"All three of these yours?"  (Nah, I stole the stroller from the petting zoo just a few yards back, and they were in it). 

"Yes, ma'am." 

"I don't know how you do it.  What are they, three, two, and one?"
"Nah, five, two, and eight months."
Random comment about her family member who has one set of triplets and a set of twins, just a couple of years apart.
"Yeah, my husband and I joke that if we have another, God will laugh from on high and give us multiples." 
"You're crazy.  You see my one right here, that's enough." 

We parted ways shortly after, and my Southern upbringing caused me to smile and nod my goodbye without saying anything else, but what has been on my mind since is what I'd like to have said.  What I'd like to say to everyone who gives me the same line (especially when we mention we might have one more). 

I don't know how you do it, either.  I don't know how anyone chooses to only have one.  (And please, please don't think I'm talking about those that can't have more than one, or any at all for that matter; I'm not).  In fact, if we had the finances, and I didn't have the health issues that I do, and wasn't approaching "advanced maternal age," I'd have ten more. 

Saying "my kids are my life" makes me think of all those memes on Facebook that say things about living every second of every day for your kids.  I won't lie; I take some time for myself.  I often find time to squeeze in an episode or two of West Wing, or to read a chapter or two of whatever book is at arm's length.  I think part of a child's healthy development is learning to play without me being right beside them. And I do enjoy time with my husband without my children being in the middle. 

But while I might not say my kids are my life, my kids make my life complete.  They add joy and laughter to my day.  They give me a reason to get out of the bed every morning, whether I want to at the moment, or not.  They've taught me sympathy and emotion like I never had previously.  They've definitely made me less selfish.  They've made me smarter (if you don't think it takes intelligence to "dumb things down," you try it explaining how you can balance on water using a surfboard to a person who can't spell surface tension).  And on, and on. 

Having more than one just multiplies that.  Why does that confuse people?

By the way, I don't think everyone in the world needs kids.  I'm definitely not stupid enough to think everyone in the world wants kids.  And this isn't a post to encourage over-population.  I have friends who have zero kids and are perfectly happy, and I have friends who have six or seven and are happy, too.  I'm not saying people without kids aren't happy.  I'm not even saying people should have more kids.  I just don't see why others think it's so difficult, or that it's not fun to have more than one.

For us, we enjoy having lots of kids.  We may never be rich.  (Ha!  We may never see middle-middle class!)  But I'll consider myself rich when my house is so full of grandkids that we have to have two dining room tables at Thanksgiving.  We might not be able to go out and have a date night every Friday, but honestly, I'm just as happy watching Lost in same recliner as my husband, while the kids play in the next room. 

If you choose to have just one, more power to you.  I'm sure that kid knows he or she is the center of your universe.  And that's fine with me.  We'll just pretend we're in Star Wars, and our solar system has three suns. 

But I might start answering "I don't know how you do it" with "I don't know how you do it, either."