So, am I done?

There are two things that I have heard constantly since having Robby. The first:

“Wow, looks like you have your hands full!”

Everywhere I go someone says this to me. Ev.Ry.Where. It started as soon as I began showing, only the verb tense was different - “Wow, looks like you’re gonna have your hands full.” - to which I would smile and nod. Mmmm, yes, thank you for pointing that out. I really appreciate that. Thanks. And it has continued into my daily life now that I am the mother of two, like when I am desperately trying to get the three of us up the stairs while Robby is screaming and hungry and Sam is refusing to walk and insisting that I carry him - “WOW! Looks like you REALLY have your hands full!” - Yes! Yes, I do! Now can you wipe that ridiculous smirk off your face and stop rubbernecking like my family climbing the stairs is some sort of fatal car crash that you’re passing by? Did you just shake your head at the situation? Did you just chuckle to yourself as you kept on walking? Thanks. I REALLY do appreciate that. Thanks A LOT. I sure do hope I made YOUR day a little brighter . . . Jackaaaaassssss . . .oh, I’m sorry, did I say that last part out loud?

Anyway, total strangers say it to me, without fail, every time I leave the house. I grin and bear it because yes, my hands are fairly full right now, and if people want to sort of look at me and think to themselves about how great they’ve got it in comparison then they can go right ahead. Glad to be of service.

But the thing I cannot get used to is this one:

“So, are you done?”

Every time I get my haircut the woman asks me if I’m done having kids now. Now granted, I don’t get in there for a cut very often at all, but she asks me every single time. In fact, she started asking me this before Robby was even born. And she’s not the only one. I hear it a lot, next to the whole hands full thing.

My answer was always something like, “Well, I don’t really know. I figure at some point I’ll feel like my family is complete, or I’ll feel like someone is missing and we’ll go from there.”

And then, the other day, I felt it. Like we were complete. I really did . . .

I think I might be done.

But man, how do you really know, right? Especially when there are so many factors that can influence something like that, like, for example, already feeling like my hands are really, really full right now. But I have to say, I’m pretty confident about this.

According to my husband, I felt the same way when Sam was a baby. I don’t recall that. And I don’t recall feeling this way. I don’t remember having a sense of completeness when it came to our familial unit. I just remember being exhausted and having no time or energy to even entertain the idea of more. Perhaps I’m going through that again. Perhaps I won’t know for a long time. Perhaps I will know, and then I won’t know. Or perhaps I’ll be wrong.

But if I were to go get myself a haircut right now, and she asked me again, I’d probably say yes. Yes, I think I am done.

Does that mean that when we move in 6 weeks that we will be getting rid of all “the gear,” the toys, the clothes? That’s a toughy. I’m tempted to say we do. I’m tempted to let go of the infant car seat, the stroller that goes with it, the swing, the gym, the newborn clothes, the little linky toys. I’m tempted. But could I do it? Could I really pass on those little onesies? Wow, I don’t know.

How do you know?

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