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Adding Some Color

I distinctly remember my first encounter with food coloring. It was love at first chemical-laden sight. Mom and I were icing sugar cookies. We'd made a bowl of white icing. Then she broke out the food coloring. I was memorized by the bright colors and giddy at the thought of mixing them.

Like most six year olds, I believed more was better. So the icing started a lovely pink after a few drops of red. Next came lavender with some blue. Then Mom turned her back just long enough for me to reenact the movie Cocktail with food coloring. Every color was going in and hell with a few drops, more is better. This is fantastic, I thought, as I created a rainbow in the bowl. I stirred with glee until I realized the rainbow was disappearing. The icing was turning a disgusting shade of gray-brown. This was terrible. No one wants to eat icing that looks like poop.

 So you're thinking, nice little story Jen. Way to point out that more isn't necessarily better. But that's actually not my point at all. Bear with me.

 Last weekend I had to show my old house to a new prospective renter. As I walked through the rooms I became nostalgic. I lived there by myself. No husband. No dog. And certainly no kid. I had hours of quiet time to myself. Cereal for dinner didn't disappoint anyone. Reading a book for hours didn't make me feel guilty. My life was a bowl of white icing.

 Then I met Husband. (Boyfriend at the time.) He definitely added some color. Then we adopted Trudy. Then we got married. More color. Along came Baby C. A whole shitload of color, pun intended. All of this in two and half years. And now people have dared to ask are you having another?

 What?!?!?!

 I'm trying so hard to keep that icing from turning brown right now, I can't entertain the thought. Another? I barely have a handle on one. (Okay, I don't have a handle. It just makes me feel better to think I do.) I want to shake these people until they lose the ability to ask questions. Another baby. Sheesh.

 Then at night when Husband and baby are asleep and Trudy is warming my feet on the bed, I allow myself to consider doing this all again. It would have to happen relatively soon. It would be another giant pain in the ass, among other places. We'd need a bigger house. Daycare costs would be outrageous. We'd be really old by the time the second one graduates. But still I think about it. And admit that brown can actually be quite nice. 

 We'll see.




Comments

  1. Schnockered MomDecember 18, 2012 at 11:42 AM

    she's so gorgeous!! Love this picture and love your well-crafted analogy.

    It took me nearly 6 years to have those feelings again. I realized that having even an iota of that feeling again (reluctant mommy that I was the first time around) was enough reason to jump in again. I didn't want to find myself at age 50 wondering what could have been. At times I do wish I could have a simpler life more devoted to myself, but I know it will be that way again soon and well before I'm fully ready for it.

    Jumping back into babies is a super personal decision. People only ask because it's sort of that obvious I-don't-know-what-else-to-ask-you-at-the-moment type of comment that happens. Like discussing the weather, people just can't help themselves. Better get a quick comment ready to throw out there like, "Not yet. I'd really like to have some good sex with my husband again before going down the baby path a second time." It might shut them up for a few minutes.

    ReplyDelete
  2. 3athletejenDecember 18, 2012 at 2:05 PM

    Husband would be ecstatic if I used that answer. Excellent.

    ReplyDelete

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