I am part zombie today. I stayed up to do some writing but couldn't concentrate so I went to bed. Twenty minutes later, Miss N wanders in and is running a fever. And so we were up the majority of the night. Even once she fell asleep, I kept waking up because I was worried she was going to wake up again. She's completely fine other than the fever and being really tired. I'm not sure if that's because she didn't sleep last night or because of the fever, but she typically sleeps a lot when she runs them. I wish someone, anyone, could tell us what it is that gives her these fevers. Even though the only thing they seem to do is make her tired, there still must be something amiss. We were hoping she'd outgrow them, and she still might, but so far they're just less frequent. I guess that's something. Being up all night took me back to every time I've been up all night before with a baby or a toddler (other than my own, of course). I spent a few nights up with my niece when she was a baby, but didn't get into almost full-time duty until my brother's oldest was born a few years later. I was a mess, still recovering from the accident and such, and it was almost as if the kid knew it. He would scream bloody murder if anyone else came to get him at night, but he was as calm as can be when we were together, like he knew I needed the company or something. A decade later, his sister Miss M came into the picture and that child's middle name could be 'Chaos' (that's what I call her). I swear she would wait until you were just slipping into sleep before screaming out at decibels no human should have to hear. She just wanted the company and didn't like to be alone. But she was gonna make you suffer for leaving her alone in the first place. It's amazing how different each kid can be.
Last night while I was wide awake I thought about the contrast of my life some years ago and my life now. These are the things that keep me up now; preschool applications, college funds and fevers. It's a far cry from my college days where the only reason I was up was because I wanted to be. For some reason, I've been thinking about parenthood in general the past, oh, 14 hours or so. I can't imagine why. It could be because I was up with my own kid, or the fact that my sister's oldest son turned ten yesterday. Might also have something to do with two of my best friends in the world announcing they're expecting, or my cousin and his wife considering procreating this year. My group isn't comprised of very many parents and, really, neither is my generation of family. The funny thing about that is our elders are always talking about how they don't have grandkids or have enough grandkids, when they're the ones that made it mandatory for us to go to college and get degrees. And with degrees come careers (or at least that used to be the case), and thus longer wait times for happily ever afters. My cousin and his wife are celebrating their ten year anniversary later this year and have been debating having kids for awhile now. I remember having a conversation about kids some time ago and my only advice was not to take that plunge unless you're absolutely ready for it. Kids be rough. On the best days, they're fun and exciting and growing and learning and well-behaved. On the worst days, they're growing and learning and loud and cranky. And needy, don't forget needy. Although you know what you're signing up for on that one. And on days when you're overwhelmed, and there will be days when you will be overwhelmed, you just have to take yourself out of the situation for a minute and learn to deal. And then get right back at it. Perhaps not surprisingly, the cousin and his Mrs. decided to wait at least another year before having kids of their own. Probably a wise decision.
It occurred to me today that I probably will not have more kids if I don't do it within the next eight years. Maybe even less. I adore kids and I love being a dad and it's so true that you don't get love until you become a parent. But my kid is already four. I never wanted there to be much of an age difference between my kids, probably because that's how I grew up. In eight years, she will be twelve (shudder). Twelve years is a big age difference. In another four years, she'll be eight. That, I'm thinking, will be the more likely cutoff point. I'll be 35 by then (shudder). I know not all siblings that have big age differences have a disconnect, I have friends who are a decade and a half younger than their siblings and they grew up just fine. A few years ago I was in the midst of a little bout of baby fever. I wasn't in any position to have another one, but mine was at the age where she didn't need me as much anymore and that was the main factor. It passed and now I'm back to my usual 'wait and see' approach. So I don't know. This is all way in the future obviously. But I won't even consider another kid unless I'm ridiculously in love with the person I want to have the kid with. But who knows? I could have two more kids by 35, I could have no more by 38. It's in my hands but it's also out of my hands. At least now I know exactly what to expect after four years in the trenches with Miss N. Wouldn't change it for the world.
