Entry FeedYesterday, while riding home from Son Two's speech therapy session on the subway, he loudly and clearly announced, "You can't have any more children."
Yes, for a child who has been in speech therapy for 4 years, somehow he is clear as day when he announces personal things about me on the subway. The woman across from us looked up, her eyes meeting mine, and she smiled. Yes, she was laughing on the inside, but was she laughing with me or at me?
The child in me wanted to scream, "YES I CAN! I can have as many kids as I want to, and you can't tell me what to do! You are not the boss of me!"
However, as a middle aged adult, I instead leaned over and quietly asked Son Two, "Why do you say that, honey?"
"Because we are 8, 6 and 4 and if you had wanted another baby it should have come two years ago."
Aha! The math genius cracked my baby-making code... I had my children when I was 27, 29 and 31... and 33 has come and gone. He is too right, if I had wanted to keep my perfectly balanced child spacing, I would have already had child number 4 years ago.
Alas, on the subway I just smiled and threw my arm around his shoulder pulling him close. "Honey, we have three brilliant, healthy, funny and wonderful kids, and we are the luckiest parents in the world."