internal monologue

Every time I hear that another friend or loved one is having a baby, I have to remind myself that popping out offspring is not a competitive sport.

I can't really explain it, but there is a part of me that feels like I have to "keep up" in the baby-making arena. For example, if a family member who has been married for as long as I have (or less) is on baby number two, I feel like I should also be on baby number two ... Or, if a close friend is expecting, I should also be expecting (so as to have a child of my own that can grow up with that friend's child).

It's all quite maddening.

I've got one child under the age of one as it is!

I'd be crazy to want another one already ... Right?

It doesn't help my situation that Malcolm has been such a perfect little angel thus far. He was sleeping through the night like a pro by two months of age and has never given us any problems to speak of ... He nurses well. He eats well. He adjusts to new situations (and/or people) well. He travels well. He even takes his vaccinations well (with minimal crying!). He has the most bubbly, easy-going personality of anyone I know. And, like the proverbial cherry on the top of the sundae, he's adorable!

Seriously.

This kid is the all-around perfect first child ... Everything I could have possibly wanted, and more!

(But, I'm pretty sure my opinion is extremely biased.)

Anyway ... Back to new babies ...

From the time Malcolm was about four months old, I thought: "I could do this again. I could take care of another one ... Right now, in fact."

I almost initiated "the talk" with my husband, before stopping to really think about what another baby would mean.

I'm glad that I hesitated.

For one, my husband would have surely laughed in my face and sought me professional help of some sort. But, more importantly, if I had rushed to baby number two, I wouldn't have been able to appreciate (and ultimately experience) all the awesome little moments with baby number one. I would have been focused on the next step, what was to come, without really living life in the moment with my current child. Not that I would have completely ignored Malcolm or anything, I just would have been a little preoccupied.

So, obviously, I'm truly happy and content with my life and the baby I have now. I'm full on blessed and I honestly wouldn't want it any other way.

Why, then, do I still get that little twinge of jealousy that other people are pregnant and I am not?

That little "push" to go make my own baby number two?

That inkling that I need to catch up?

Maybe I need to take a deep breath, relish in the now, and stop thinking about what is to come ... Things will happen as they are meant to happen ...

Or I have to stop being so darn competitive.