Plus 2 Surprise Babies Makes Us A Lucky Seven

Families are complex. At least mine always has been. 

Do you remember the Newhart tv series in the 80s with a character called Larry and his brothers, Daryl and Daryl? Well, thanks to my blended family, I actually have three brothers, and two are named James. Although neither went by “James,” as a kid I loved introducing us in just the way Larry did on the show. 

Maybe that’s why I always imagined I’d grow up to have a classic sit-com nuclear family: Me and my spouse, our 3 children, 2 cats and 1 dog. 

Reality? We had two babies 18 months apart, then moved into a small 2 bedroom apartment in Manhattan. Not only did that nix the fur babies, but pretty much my dreams of a third child. 

Which is why I was wistfully bemused a few weeks ago, as we neared the end of an excruciatingly long day in the car, when my two delightful little rebels started talking about how they wanted more siblings.

4 kids & only 1 me? Oh hell, no.

I thought they were kidding. 
Nope. According to them I need to deliver a baby post-haste.  
Naturally, my Girl wants a sister, my Boy wants a brother. So I’ll need to produce fraternal twins. 
Check out the kid-logic sales pitch: 

  • BOTH insist a new baby can sleep in their beds with them. 
  • They will share ALL their toys. 
  • There will be no crying, no fighting, and rainbows will fill the baby’s diapers, which my 4 and 6 year olds will obviously change themselves. 
When I reminded them of their unwillingness to even share my fecking lap when I try to read to them, they suggested the solution was I needed a second husband.  
Oh yeah, they did. For the rest of the drive they spun an elaborate tale of our 2 dads, 4 kids, 1 mom life in a 2 bedroom apartment in New York City. 
Slumping in the passenger seat, I couldn’t help but feel exhausted by the mere conjecture. 

6 thoughts on “Plus 2 Surprise Babies Makes Us A Lucky Seven

  1. Haa haa! I love the way kids think. When my daughter was 2 she started asking to go to the grocery store to buy a “baby disher,” which after some confusion we figured out meant she wanted to buy a baby sister. She got a baby brother a year later. He did not come from the grocery store.


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