I think I want to have another baby. This insight came to me today as I was thinking about the upcoming Midwives Reunion Picnic, and what I would say to the moms I know who are pregnant or already the parents of a second. I’ve noticed that I tense up a bit whenever someone asks me that most-casual-of-casual questions: when are you having another one? I have some very valid reasons for not getting pregnant again:

1. I’m still the only one with a job. Until the Boy gets a job, we can’t move out of my parents’ basement, which means that…
2. until we move back to Gomorrah, I can’t seek care from my beloved Hectate. Also,
3. you can have one surprise baby, one child on credit. More than that and you start to look like those women on Springer who can’t keep their babydaddies straight.

And I know that having a baby would be awfully convenient. I wouldn’t have to face another full year at Hogsboro High. I could spend more time with Blake. I could wean him without any effort on my part. I could stop trying to bring my body back to beautiful. I could stop thinking about birth control. I would have a great answer to those casual questions. And I would be firmly committed to mommyhood, something that can be a bit tenuous at times with my job and my habits.

None of those are good enough reasons. (Keeping in mind that I’ve stopped believing that there are any really logical reasons to have children, just several very good emotional ones.) I guess the best reason not to have another baby right now is because I feel that my life with Blake has been compromised in some respects because I wasn’t able to be a confident mother. It’s too easy to doubt myself when I live with people who only grant me provisional competence. I want my children to see me as calm, nurturing, and stable. Perfect is out the window of course, but at least if I wait I can give the next one independence from my teenage demons.

VBS ended with a whimper rather than a roar. Our final day was marked by surprise additions (two teenaged cousins! A young toddler without a babysitter!) and even more annoying defections. We had one station leader who pulled her kids out early so that they missed the final gathering but got to the post-VBS party on time. I spent most of this final gathering chasing kids back into the church; I finished the week angry and frustrated and tired. I may have only been a camp counsellor for a month, but even I know that the right kind of leader is there on-time and an enthusiastic participator in every activity.

I’ve told the Boy (this year’s VBS director) that I wouldn’t do it next year without more formal commitment on the part of the other volunteers. I refuse to arrive early and herd masses of children when the rest of the adults are sipping coffee and gossiping in another room. Grrr.

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- Rocketbride's adventure of 8/27/2005 07:08:00 p.m.