Four is the new three
I recently had a conversation with a friend. Actually, it’s the same conversation I’ve had with many other friends, relatives, casual acquaintances, complete strangers and anonymous message board posters under aliases.
It’s about the number of children we have.
I know that it is an unfathomable number. You can still count to it using only one hand, but somehow because it pertains to children, it escapes all algebraic logic. It scares the ovaries off of people.
This friend told me that just as 50 is the new 40, 3 is the new 2 when it comes to children. Presumably, any more or less than that makes you a circus freak.
Since I never asked anyone else to change my children’s’ diapers or pay for their college educations, I wonder why people feel the need to comment on the size of my family at all?
But they do. Constantly.
If I had a child for every time I've heard, "You sure do have your hands full!" I’d have my own reality show on VH1. But it’s the offhanded remark "So, did you plan this?" that really insults me. My husband and I pretty much have had the biology figured out since an awkward 6th grade health class, so to answer the rudest question in the entire world, yes. (And to the second rudest pertaining to the future number, I don’t know.)
I love my big family. I love the chaos, the noise, the beautiful mess that it is. I love my hands full of sippy cups and baseball gear, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Besides, I really think that in 2009, four is going to be the new three.
-- Suburban Diva