Plei speaks for me in so many ways, except for the part where I had fainting spells rather than bedrest.

People are asking when we're having number two, and I say we aren't, and they get all appalled and tell me, "It's not good to be an only child!" To which I respond, "I'm an only child."

I used to be nice and rather than stopping them cold, say "I won't be getting pregnant again, but we're considering adoption." But too many people got all revolted and freaked and went off on how horrible adoption is. I discovered that that kind of negative reaction to adoption offends me more than being told I'm damaged by being an only child.

I recently read somewhere that the reason many people get so upset about the idea of being an only child is that they think only children must feel bereaved by the loss of their siblings, which is how they would feel, when it's not bereavement at all.

When I was young -- like, *really* young -- I thought I would have five or six kids

I always assumed I'd have 4, because I came from a family of 4 kids, and so did both of my parents.

Now that I know what pregnancy feels like...hell the fuck no. I am not doing this 3 more times. I am doing this once more (to ensure that my offspring have someone other than their introverted neurotic parents to learn communication and social skills from) and that is it. Nada mas.

Plus, I *am* a selfish dick, and I don't think I would be a good mom.

Heh -- if I thought the two were mutually exclusive, I wouldn't be breeding right now...

I always wanted to be an only child. Sadly, I have 1.5 sisters.

I have been through fits of wanting children, but having children with my ex would have been like having two three-year-olds at one time. I think raising a child alone is just too hard. I know many people have ended up doing that and doing that well, but I couldn't see doing it on purpose. Looking back, I think it was a good thing. Also, I come from a long line of crazy. l'm not sure that DNA is really worth keeping. I'm very fond of other people's children though.

The difficult part is figuring out where the family stuff goes, since neither my sister or I have children. I suppose it mostly goes to my half-sister's children, but I don't know them very well.

You'd rise to the occasion

One hopes. Because you're kind of stuck if you don't, as kids don't come with return policies.

As furious as I get with the cat knocking over stuff by mostly accident, I don't want to deal with my temper when faced with a wicked-minded three-year-old who is seeing just how far he can push the 'rents. The cost of screwing up is too high.

I'm usually amused, in an ironic way, by people who insist that having only one child somehow isn't fair to the child. I think they idealize the sibling relationship (at least until adulthood). My mother grew up as an only child (she had a much older half sister who was raised far away and they only saw each other for a short time each year) and insisted she'd never put a child through that ... which meant she didn't get why my sister and I didn't adore each other. The fact that she loathed her half sister never occurred to her ....

I'm making a distinction here between folks saying they selfishly want to have their own free time so choose not to have kids vs. people who think they would be bad parents because of said selfishness.

It was a combination for me. I knew that if I didn't get some of my life as my own, I'd be a horrible parent. I needed time to do crazy stuff, do dangerous stuff, have experiences, so that I wouldn't resent the tiny howling boat anchor. In a way, I knew that my selfishness would make me a bad parent, not because I wouldn't stay up all night holding a sick child, but because I'd be resentful and therefore possibly short-tempered and mean.

I hated being an only child. I was really good with grownups, and failed miserably at socialization with other kids. Plus, I realized as a mature adult that my mom really didn't want a child, she wanted a younger sibling that she could "compete" with for her own affection, and "win". She was menopausal, probably from when I was in middle school through high school, and was ... emotionally unpredictable. Anything that got broken or lost in the house was automatically my fault. As a result, I carry a conviction that I am guilty for everything, in the family, in any job I've had or organization I've been a part of, even for world peace. It's all my fault.

My mom is an only child, and while it never bothered her as a kid, it bothers her now, because she is the sole support for her aging mother. And, awful as it is to say, her mother is pretty much a selfish, neurotic, passive-aggressive bitch and always has been.

Now that I know what pregnancy feels like...hell the fuck no. I am not doing this 3 more times.

It's always unique, though -- all three of my pregnancies were different. Some worse than others. All, yeah, uncomfortable to a degree, but I'm one of those women who really enjoyed pregnancy.

Except for the ligament pain. And the aching back. And the hormone-induced weepiness. And the ovewhelming exhaustion. Wait a minute...

I'm making a distinction here between folks saying they selfishly want to have their own free time so choose not to have kids vs. people who think they would be bad parents because of said selfishness. If you actually had the kid, the selfishness is moot. You'd rise to the occasion.

I was thinking that any decent person (and certainly the people in this conversation) would rise to the occasion, but didn't know how to say it, without looking like I was trying to argue people into having kids, who shouldn't or don't want to have kids. You're not wrong.

Arguments for having kids:

1. All weekend long (and even into last night), Christopher kept accidentally referring to MLK as, "Doctor Martin Luther the King."

2. The kids knew I'd woken with a couple of anxiety dreams recently, and the other night, Ben (unsolicited) inserted a request into bedtime prayers that they anxiety dreams would stop. The other two followed suit (unsolicited, and surely out of love for me, but also, most likely, such that their big brother wouldn't trump them in what they imagine to be the sweetiecake sweeps). (For those keeping score, prayer worked.)

3. Last week, it was rainy at some point, and when they came in, their shoes were muddy. None of them originally took seriously my admonition to remove their shoes. Dh and Ben then went to Ben's basketball game. Chris and Julia stayed home with me.

I kept finding more mud that had been tracked through the house. When the guys came home, Julia, unsolicited, went to the door, hand on hip, and told them, "Mommy has been sweeping and vacuuming for almost the two hours. You can just take off those shoes now. You can't expect her to do this all night."

Argument against having kids:

1. A bad stomach virus is going around school. One teacher told me they are, "Dropping like flies."

I knew that if I didn't get some of my life as my own, I'd be a horrible parent. I needed time to do crazy stuff, do dangerous stuff, have experiences, so that I wouldn't resent the tiny howling boat anchor. In a way, I knew that my selfishness would make me a bad parent, not because I wouldn't stay up all night holding a sick child, but because I'd be resentful and therefore possibly short-tempered and mean.

I get all that. As much as I love parenting, it doesn't feed all of my needs, nor even close. Actually, there's probably more outlay than intake.

Parenting is definitely about the long-term emotional investment. Emmett's not much work now, but he's a lot of fun and love. It's like investing in a Mercedes and planning on keeping it for eighteen years. It's not the short term return where you get the value for your effort.

But it does get a lot easier when they're past the toddler stage. Much, much easier once they're in school.