The Advantages of Being an Overly Imaginative Adoptive Mom

Mother, it's best you don't read this entry.
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I warned you, Mom.
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Are you still here?? Okay, fine. Read it. But don't get excited.
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I want another child. I want another sibling for my son, one he can share a toybox with and see on a daily basis. One he can share bunkbeds with, and play tag with, and fight over toys with, and destroy our living room furniture with. I want another kid around to love and smooch over, and take for walks and take to the park.

I don't mind the barfy nights and the fevers and the runny noses. I'm great at doing diaper duty, but it doesn't have to be another wee one this time.

Being an adoptive mom has its advantages when you lie awake at night imaging your next child. Unlike pregnant parents, the options are limitless. We're not stuck with the boring standard options gestating parents face: will it be a boy or a girl? Will they have mom or dad's eye colour? How much will they weight?

Booooooooooooring. My imaginative previews of my next child are far more exciting.

Will it be a boy or a girl? One of each? How about a sibling group or three or four or more? (Weee heee hee! I'm giddy already!)

Will they have blonde hair, brown hair, black hair, no hair? Will they have green hair or purple hair or stand out to here hair?

Will they like pizza or pasta or ice cream or cake?
Will they like riding bikes or swimming or will they like to bake?

I could lie awake forever thinking about the little personality(ies) that are just waiting to join our family.

It just feels like someone is missing, and I'm not sure if now is the right time or not, but my adoptilogical clock is TICK TICK TICKING away.

Mom, stop jumping up and down. Calm down. I warned you....

First I have to convince my husband. And that is no small feat. Yes, he's an awesome dad. Phenomenal. But he also has all those silly concerns that just don't seem to phase me.

"What about a room for the new child?" he will ask. "Well, helloooooooooo, bunk beds?"

"We don't have extraneous income, you know. We don't even have a second car." he'll point out.

"Well we got on fine with one car so far, what's another kid to throw in the mix? Hey, if we adopt a school aged child, he can help you carry the diaper bag when you're on the bus together!"

"Not funny," the husband will say.

"It wasn't supposed to be." I'll counter.

And at that point in the conversation, my husband will as usual trot out his standard response to my "let's have another child!" outburst.

"I'll be on the deck, ready to jump."

Really, honey. That phrase is getting old!! And so are we.... so about that second child..."