Then we had Eloise. Within a week I told the Frenchman that I didn’t think I could wait 4 years for another one. He agreed.
So we said, well, lets wait and see what kind of a 2 year old Eloise is and maybe go for a second kid.
Sarah at BecomingSarah.com wrote a post about how she only needed 6 months to decide that she was ready to try and make another baby. When I read that, I thought well, to each their own and all but that’s cuhrazy talk.
Then Eloise started growing up. It was a small moment. She waved her hand at me. Very slowly and deliberately and I realized that sooner than I would like she would no longer be a baby but a full blown kid. And I am just not ready to live my life without a baby in it.
Now I still need to get The Frenchman on board with the idea of keeping our lives filled with dirty nappies and 3am wake-ups at a continual pace, but reading Sarah’s post was comforting to know that I was not alone in the desire to have more babies sooner rather than later.
But I don't want to share you Mama!
Sarah’s adorable daughter Charlotte is only a couple days younger than Eloise so I have been able to relate to a lot of her posts - we both certainly did our fair share of complaining about the havoc our bodies were putting us through while pregnant.
She has an awesome blog. Killer design. Jealous inducing photos. Great writing.
She is doing a wonderful thing at the moment - encouraging literacy and urging parents to read to/with their children from a young age. This includes giving away children’s books – so get on over there and try and start or increase your children’s book collection.
She also has happened to do a feature on little ole me. I know! Her blog is like super famous now and I’m on it! Check out my interview here.
If you’ve just found my little corner of the intermaweb from Sarah’s site – Hi! If I could I would give you an awkward* fist bump and a big old goofy smile for stopping by.
*not because it is awkward "meeting" new people (yay new people!) but because I'm just not sure I can pull off the fist bump without looking like I'm trying too hard. The big goofy smile I have no problem with.