5 Reasons to Have Another Kid

Lately we've been throwing around the wacky idea of having a second child. The truth is I haven't really figured out this parenting thing with the first one yet, but long before he came I made the (perhaps rash and bold) decision that I wanted two children. Double the pleasure, double the rum.

Family is a tricky thing. I know better than most that simply being raised in the same household as another kid doesn't necessarily mean you're anything more than relatives. There's no guarantee Kiddo #1 (should I call him Piglet? Bacon? Pork Rind?) would like Kiddo #2, much less be close to him or her. In fact, they might be so not-close that he finds out major family events, like weddings, from facebook. I've been there. There are worse fates. However, I know for sure he wouldn't be close to a sibling if we never had one.

In the interest of trying to convince myself that having a second child is a good idea, I've come up with a handy-dandy list of several ways in which siblings make a positive impact on a kid's life:

Dramatic re-enactment

• Having some one else to blame it on. "It" being an accusation of who instigated the argument, that empty beer bottle found in the tree house, or a mountain of therapy bills.
  
  Me: *ahem*
  Husband: "I've told you before, that beer can in the tree house at my parents' wasn't mine. My brother left it there. I didn't even drink that brand in high school."
  
  
• Playing Hide and Seek. You can't do this one alone. It's no fair when mom's seeking because she knows all the best hiding spots. And it's worse when she's hiding, because she tends to have a drink or take a nap if she's left alone too long.
• Taking care of us when we're old and infirm. It's going to take more than one person to help us figure out those damned newfangled remote controls. And don't get me started on the nav system in our new autopilot cars. Nobody should have to bear that burden alone.
• Learning early that life is unfair. The older one always should have known better, the younger one will always have to wear hand-me-downs and be known in school as so-and-so's sibling. Them's the breaks. Learn early that fair is a place you go for cotton candy.
• Sharing history. Each family has its own story, woven out of the many threads that make up each member's viewpoint. My family, for example, is probably best described by the melancholic Garden State quote: "a group of people that miss the same imaginary place." I wish I had family that remembered my mother during the same decades I knew her, or didn't know her, so we could reminisce and remember and grieve properly. Instead I try, twice a year, to celebrate her with those who never knew her. It's a sad, lonely business, and I don't want to pass that on to my little boy.

People keep asking me if I'm ready to have another baby. The answer is a resounding no. Having a baby, I've decided, is not something one can ever be truly prepared for (except perhaps if you are a Duggar and it's your 19th child). You can read all the books and blogs you want, but when that little bundle comes out you're flying by the seat of someone else's diapers from that point forward. I have no idea how I will manage a toddler and a newborn without losing my sanity. But I don't think I'll ever be less not-ready, so I guess now is as good a time as any. And isn't ambivalence one of the best, most heartwarming reasons to bring a child into the world?

People also ask if I want another one. To that, I say it's more about wanting the one I have to have the family I never did.