It seems like everyone I know is having more kids than me. Two parents, two kids has always seemed like a solid, rational equation to me, but I might now be in the minority in this thought. My neighborhood is filled with families with three, four, even five kids. My best friends from college all had their first and second kids around the same time as I did, then surprised me with their desire to keep procreating.
"Really? Are you sure?" was my reaction when one of my best friends told me she was trying for number three. (Luckily, she loves me despite my lack of a verbal filter.) I love my kids, but I've never felt that itch for just one more. Two, not three, is my magic number, and this baby-making factory is officially closed.
Read through for 21 reasons two is the perfect number of kids for me.
- The thought of being outnumbered by tiny people in my home terrifies me.
- I already spend a large percentage of my life dealing with other people's hygiene. I have hit my nail-clipping, diaper-changing, bath-giving limit.
- My children both require an adult to spend at least an hour reading them books and lying next to them before they'll let themselves fall asleep. Who would deal with number three at bedtime?
- Pregnancy and I are not friends. The first one was bad, the second was worse, and I can't imagine number three.
- I don't have space for a second washer and dryer, and I'm pretty sure another kid would require two loads going at all times.
- I have already lost two years of my life to sleep deprivation. My antiaging creams can only do so much.
- I hate sippy cups. I can't produce another child who will need more sippy cups.
- I hate bottles even more.
- My boobs look sad enough after two rounds of breastfeeding, thank you very much.
- I already gave away my good baby stuff and donated the so-so stuff, and who wants to buy all the stuff again?
- How many beds can one human make each day? And, damn it, I like the beds in my house made!
- This morning, I had to tackle my 2-year-old son and hold him down to get a diaper on him, and during the process, he threw a succession of board books at my head. What if the next one would be even crazier?
- Two kids fighting is loud and annoying enough. Three or more? Torture.
- I don't want a minivan and I buy too much sh*t at Target to keep my SUV's third row up all the time. Until my oldest can sit shotgun, I just don't have the car space.
- I want to be involved in my kids' classrooms, but with more than two, I'm fairly certain I wouldn't even be able to remember their teachers' names.
- I need alone time. I don't get it now, and I'm sure more kids wouldn't help the situation.
- I love to travel to new places, but airfare for five-plus, multiple hotel rooms, and the thought of flying with that many kids means I'd be grounded for decades.
- My huge couch only seats four (OK, it would probably seat five, but I like to stretch out).
- I can't afford to buy any more iPads, then replace their cracked screens, then replace them again.
- My husband and I believe in the divide-and-conquer method of parenting, but more than two kids would mean one of us would always feel shafted, and I'm betting most of the time, it would be me.
- Kids mean chaos, and while a little chaos is good, there's only so much this mom can take.