My Argument for Having More Than ONE Child

My Argument for Having More Than ONE Child

I recently read an article about a couple who ‘decided’ to only have one child.  They lived in New York, both had good jobs and were in their 30s.  It seemed that having a child was something they thought they ought to do.  All their friends were doing it, but it seemed like it fit into the ‘let’s get married, buy a house, go on vacation, have a kid, go to work’.  Even though the article was not about having children, it just kind of pissed me off.  They ‘ought’ to have a kid?  Just one. No more, no less.

Another article I just read was about a woman explaining her choice to have one child.  It seemed more like an apology.  The kid was only 8 and they had been to Disney World and there were a bunch of pictures of her and him at holidays and birthdays, with explanations about how she can ‘devote all her energy to him’.  The kid looks more than a little bored.  I was bored most of my childhood.  I really want people to do what they want with their lives, but having one kid is just plain selfish!

I am an only child and it has pretty much sucked my entire life.  When I was little, I didn’t have anyone to play with.  Even though my mom stayed at home and tried to play with me, she really enjoyed making me taking naps so she could nap too.  I didn’t have cousins my age (my cousins had kids older than me) and there weren’t many kids in the neighborhood to play with either.  I had some church friends, but they didn’t live nearby.  My parents never went anywhere without me.  I don’t recall ever having a babysitter. I called my parent’s friends by their first names.  My New Jersey in-laws were a little taken aback when I called them George and Martha from the get go...as was my husband...and his siblings!  There was no ‘hiding’ of foods.  I always got to eat as much shrimp as I wanted when we had it.  I was shocked when I found my husband’s stash of peanuts and chocolate!

Having kids was something I was destined to do.  From the time I was little, being a wife and mom was my calling, but this was so wrong on so many levels. I am a child of the 60s...or a toddler of the 60s anyway...my parents were old.  I mean they were really old.  When I came along, my dad was 36 and my mom was 34.  They had boats and cars and friends and traveled and had just a whole bunchof fun before I was born.  Time to settle down and just ‘nest’ for a while, I can hear them saying.  Yay me!

They both came from large families.  Mom had 11 siblings and Dad had 6. Mom told me sometime during my adolescence, they didn’t really want kids when they got married. Huh?  WTF?  I begged for a sibling.  I didn’t care where it came from, just get me one!  No such luck.  I was not spoiled.  My parents, specifically my mother, had her nose in my business constantly!  And why wouldn’t she?  She didn’t have anything else to do.  No other kids to keep up with.  She knew my every move.  And, was there anyone to commiserate with about lame-o mom and dad?  Was there anyone else to BLAME when I got in trouble? Nope.

Fast forward about 40+ years.  Guess who gets to be the parent now? ME!  The ONLY parent to 2 adult children...wait how did that work?  I didn’t sign up for that job.  Thankfully my parents stayed together.  I have a friend, who was also an only child whose parents divorced about the time she graduated high school (she says they planned it that way, but would have much rather they just split.  That way she wouldn’t have been subjected to all the arguments) Anyway, they both remarried, then both divorced and were alone later in life, so she got to take care of them.  Individually...both very sick, miles apart.  She was fortunate enough to have the financial means to help provide care for these 2 individuals that she could not take care of simultaneously.   

My mother was able to take care of my father who had congestive heart failure for years and later on early stage alzheimer's before his death at 84.  My mom is now 89.  She is in excellent health, except for arthritis.  My husband marvels at her wit and wisdom and the fact that she never repeats herself.  Ever.  Something I do...a lot. She lives close by, but alone and still drives. (Thank you God for all of the above!)

I married early. Then divorced early.  Looking back I really wanted to get out of the house...and get married, so I could have all those kids that I missed!  My first husband was an only child and loved it, of course. (With 4 parents showering you with material things to quell the guilt of divorce...who wouldn't?)  He knew going in, I wanted a big family.  Five children to be exact.  He never said he didn’t want 5 kids.  I wanted the constant mayhem of kids and their friends, in and out of the house.  Toys and bikes and barbies and sporting equipment and noise.  Blanket forts being built on snow days with plenty of help and ideas, not just your own.  But sadly, after 2 kids, I knew I really had 3 including my husband.  

My second husband came from a big Catholic family with 2 brothers and 2 sisters.  He was in the middle.  I love hearing stories of the mischief and mayhem they could get into when they were growing up.  He wanted a big family too and we had a head start!  After many bumps in the road we had +2 to the child column.  I had my first baby at the age of 23 (one of the youngest moms) Number 2 came along when I was 26.  Numbers 3 and 4 at age 38 and 42, respectively (one of the older, but certainly not oldest mom!)  I really wanted number 5, but it was not to be. In 5 more years, I will have packed a child off to school for 32 consecutive years and I can say without a doubt I WILL NOT MISS IT!  My mom says ‘oh enjoy it now cause they are gone so soon’!  Really mom?  Oh, you must be thinking of you!  While I didn’t have all 4 boys in the same house for more than a year or 2, I wouldn’t change a thing and I’ve never heard one of them say they wished they were an only child.