Friday, May 1, 2015

The End of One Era and the Beginning of Another - by Hilary

Okay, I admit it: I talk my husband into lots of things. I usually think I'm just presenting a new way of looking at a topic, shedding new light on it, whatever. "Just one more thing to think about."
But the truth is, I bring it up so often, so relentlessly, that he finally caves.
I've done it with dogs. I've done it with frogs. I've done it with a cat. And a pet rat.
And for the past year or so, I've been trying to do it with children. I want another one. Does the longing for another baby ever go away? I've tried a few different angles: four is a nice, even number. We could adopt another girl and we'd have two of each gender. Oh, you don't want a newborn? We can adopt a slightly older child.
He hasn't caved. Yet.
Most recently, it was chickens.
A couple of months ago, I approached him about getting some chicks. We've talked about it for the past several years but we always decide not to get them for some reason. Last year, we said we'd get them this year.
"What do you think about getting chickens?"
"No."
"I mean, they lay eggs. They do something for you."
"No."
"Well, they live outside."
"No."
"They're not much work."
"No."
"It would be fun for the kids."
"Can we eat them?"
"No."
"Then, no. You're always talking me into stuff. The dogs. The frogs. The cat."
We got the chickens.



As we were driving to pick them up from the store, my husband said, "You always talk me into stuff I don't want to do."
It's true. I totally do.
Meanwhile, our daughter outgrew her toddler bed and my sister-in-law gave us a twin-sized bed for her. As I dismantled the toddler bed - which used to be the crib (it converted) - I was feeling sad and nostalgic for another baby. I love babies. They smell good. They cuddle. They don't talk back.
"We should have one more baby."
"No. They cry. They're messy. You have to change diapers."
(Obviously husbands have a different view of babies than wives do.)
So I loaded the crib into the back of the truck. It's the end of an era, right? (And if we have another child we can just get another crib.)
We came home with the chickens, and my husband had the ingenious idea to use the crib to build their coop. It would save money and it's the perfect size.
"How nice of you to find a way for me to keep the crib!"
[Eye roll.]
That night, while we were sitting on the couch, watching a TV show, I said, "Okay, so I'm just going to ask you this one last time. And if you say, 'no,' I won't keep bringing it up. I won't present new angles. I swear."
He looked scared.
I said, "Can we ever have another child?"
He said, "No! We are maxed out, here!"
So - it's officially the end of an era. There will not be any more Dartt children. No newborns, no toddlers. I admit, I was sad. I mean, I love watching these little people grow up. And four IS a nice, even number.
But now I've got a little flock to raise.

And I've still got the crib.







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