On Having More Children

I am sitting at the kitchen table drinking wine out of a mug listening to Silas's piano lesson while Eden, minutes before dinner, feasts on crackers. I desperately need a shower, and a babysitter will be here in 40 minutes, but here I sit, quite content. Ben and I have been involved in our own series of conversations about family and children these days. We, of course, never bring it up with the kids, though I keep waiting for the day when they realize both Ben and I have lots of brothers and sisters and they only have each other. So far so good. But yesterday, appropriately on the day of thinking about motherhood, they both chimed in with their two cents.

While I was trying to talk to my mom on the phone and hear about her Mother's day, Silas screamed and cried and melted into a puddle next to me. Our conversation after I hung up:
Were you acting that way because you wanted my attention?
Yeah.
It's hard to share your mom sometimes.
Yeah, it's really hard. And there are only TWO of us. If there were more, it would be even harder. There are only two and it's this hard!
... Did someone tell you that?
No. I just thought of it by myself.


A few hours later we watched The Sound of Music, and Eden, when she finally stopped covering her ears, was mesmerized.
Finally she said, her eyes WIDE: They have so many sisters... I wish WE could have so many sisters... May we?

They kill me.