How a lamp made a difficult decision for me.
A short while ago I received the most beautiful household item I have ever owned. It’s milky glass, black wooden legs and woven cord made it more than just a lamp for me. It was the first designer item (that wasn’t shoes or a knock off) that I have ever owned.
Was.
Yesterday was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
It started well but Eve entered her naughty destructive mode a few
hours later after I unthinkingly let her have the foam from my soy
chai. I had forgotten that the chai mix had milk in it, even though it
is only a minute it was enough to set Eve into whirlwind mode. I have a
theory that because it makes her stomach hurt and she can’t express
that verbally she expresses it by acting out. It’s either that or my
kid is one of “those” kids that people make snide remarks about.
The
peak of the acting out resulted in Eve climbing on to our bedside table
and shoving the aforementioned prized lamp off shattering the delicate
glass top. Lest what I say next sounds materialistic and shallow. While
it was the height of the low that the afternoon became it was just the
last straw in being run circles around, jumped on, screamed at, bitten
etc. As a mama these are the times that I become extremely fragile and
fail to cope.
The long
and short of it is that I am now 99.9%* sure that Eve is our last baby,
while I would love another child I can’t see myself giving another baby
and my existing three a happy healthy home while trying to find a
constructive way to manage Eve on a bad day. I hate the way it sounds,
like I care so much about an object that I place it above family, but
really the lamp is just a snapshot of the challenges of parenting Eve,
challenges that are new to me as the older two were much calmer babies.
Eve requires a lot more energy and careful watching made more
complicated by the house being a work site.
I’ve
really been torn on whether we would add to our family since shortly
after I had Eve, and it’s hard to know that we won’t be. But the
reality is that there is only so much of me to go around and I need to
be the best parent I can be to the children I already have instead of
worrying about a person that doesn’t exist.
I guess that answers my earlier question, how do you know when you’re done?
*I’m not silly enough to say 100%, I’m sure if I did fate would laugh at me and I’d be pregnant before I knew it.