Love Buckets

I want more kids. Really, I do. I usually just shake my head and laugh whenever anyone says, "Time for another one!" I don't know what it is about having a three year old that makes people want to boss me and my uterus around. "Somebody needs a playmate!" "You don't wanna wait too long!" "She'd be such a good big sister!" I've been quick to brush it off and say something sarcastic like, "ARE YOU CRAZY?!" or "HA! Yeah right." But those remarks have slowly morphed into "Yeah, maybe pretty soon." or "Yeah, I think we're almost ready." The truth is, we're ready. I've always known I wanted more than one, and now that my daughter is three (and more importantly, out of diapers), I'd say it's about time. The thing is, I'm scared. I'm not scared of going through the morning sickness, labor pains or midnight feedings all over again. I'm scared that I love my daughter too much to be a good parent to another child.

I love my kid. I mean, I REALLY love my kid. I love her so much that I'm not sure I could ever love another human being as much as I love her (sorry, babe). I almost feel guilty for even considering taking my undivided attention off of her. I don't want to be a bad mother to her and have too much love for a new baby. But what business is it of mine to have another baby and NOT love it too much? I've expressed this fear to a handful of family and friends and someone said something that really resonated with me. She talked about love buckets. It went something like this...

"When you have a child, you are given a bucket. This bucket is filled to the top with love for that child. It's full. It can't get any fuller. When you have a second child, you're given a second bucket. You're not asked to split the love for your first child between two buckets. You're given another bucket, full of just as much love."

The analogy helped. It made me realize how crazy I am for worrying. When I remember my mother, I don't ever remember feeling like she loved me more or less than either of my two brothers. I knew she loved us all, A LOT. I know I can do that, too. Why? Because I'll be carrying two love buckets! I'll also be carrying two kids. Oh, and two containers for snacks. And maybe two security blankets. Hmm, and probably two of their favorite toys. Maybe two extra sets of clothes. You know, in case they throw up or something. Dang, that's a lot of stuff to carry.

"Yeah, I think we're almost ready."

"Hey, Chew with your mouth closed!"

Nobody ever told me how absolutely insane three year old girls are. I mean, I've heard of the terrible twos, but where was my warning about the clinically insane threes?! In the course of just one hour, my daughter can make me a fake cup of tea, lay on the floor sobbing and whining, tap dance, refuse to put away her toys, shower me with kisses, scream "IT'S NOT FAIR!", sing a song to make me laugh, and then get mad at me for laughing at her. I'll be honest, sometimes I wake up in the morning and just lay as still as possible, not wanting to wake the beast!

Today, she conveniently had a meltdown right after daddy left for work. I'm talking about a full blown, screaming, stomping, crying tantrum. The difference this time was that I actually knew what was wrong for a change! She was ready for nap-time. Dear, sweet nap-time. I lay her in bed and she drifted to sleep, frowning at me. Just as I leaned my head back for a nap of my own, I heard her burst into laughter! I jumped up to look at her. She was still asleep and had the biggest, brightest, big-cheeked smile on her face. She just laughed and laughed and then said playfully, "Hey! Chew with your mouth closed!" I couldn't help but crack up laughing, too. I put my head down next to hers, pulled her in closer to me, and kissed her smiling lips

Yes, it's true. I never understood how crazy little girls could be. After all, I am the youngest in my family. I WAS the crazy little girl. I didn't get to witness it. However, just as true is how incredibly freakin' amazing and fun it is to raise such a crazy little lady. My daughter makes me laugh like no one has before and while she can sometimes make me feel like ripping my hair out, she also makes me feel so proud and blessed, every day.

While there are some days when I wake up in fear of what she has in store for me, there are more days when I go to sleep wishing she'd stay this insane little three year old girl forever. Geez, now I sound crazy! Man, I really do love my little psychopath.