Saturday, 21 March 2009
We put on some of our old home movies and there was baby girl at four months, cooing, turning over, lifting her head, desperate to crawl. She appeared at 6 months covered in apple puree gurgling with delight. I turned to my husband.
"I miss them as babies. Look at that, does it not make you want to do it all again?"
"No," he replied. "I remember how long it took to feed her. How we went on holiday and she spent the whole time eating sand. How we used to spend two hours between 7 and 9pm trying to get her to sleep whilst she was screaming. How she'd pull the grass and stuff it in her mouth. I think life is so much easier now."
"But I sound so patient and calm on the video. I sound like such a great mummy."
"Well, you're hardly going to film yourself and the kids on days when they are driving you mad are you?"
"Fair point. So, it's still a no to baby number three then?"
"Yes. It's still a no. No interest. No more girls. No room. No money. No more."