Fork.

Fork in the road...

In life.

Many times the path we find ourselves on is almost forced. It is just the way it was supposed to be. Reflecting back I can't say I have been standing at the decision making point and been more indecisive than I am now.

Life 'fork' I am facing now:

To have another kid, or to stay with an only child? (I do realize all things that need to align between now and 9 or so months). But, do we try?

What Brooklyn has brought to my life is something that I have only heard others describe but never felt, until now. Crazy amounts of pride, happiness, excitement, laughs, tears, fear, anxiety, responsibility...list goes on and on. I often say she is the best thing I have done with my life so far. I love that little face.

Rewind pre-Brooklyn and Dom and I were, and still very much are, ACTIVE. We love to travel, eat at new restaurants, meet friends for drinks, catch movies, have BBQ's, just LIVE. Even now we are both very good about giving each other the time to ourselves, with friends, being social, and then bringing Brooklyn along where we can. This past weekend we survived a CRAZY beach trip with the most amazing, CRAZY friends. We managed to be adults and parents all in one weekend. I love it. I love being surrounded by our friends and family, often, and I love to get Brooklyn out there. Girl already has a passport. Awesome.

I also have a career. I work, and I like it. I thrive at being good at what I do, and while I sometimes don't always love the schedule it's what I do. I struggle though with the thought of someone else watching my baby 40+ hours a week but I know I am her MOTHER. And, I work to give her the things I want to give her. To teach her things, take her places, provide for her.

I realize some people don't even get to make this choice, so in recognizing that I can say that I am very grateful.

But how much does one more kiddo change things?

What I can't seem to wrap my head around is Brooklyn being alone through her childhood. No brother or sister to run down the stairs Christmas morning screaming "SANTA CAME!!!" Taking vacations, no one to snuggle in bed next to her full of excitement for the journies ahead. No one to call and bitch about mom and dad to. I have two brothers and we are extremely close, they mean everything to me. No one to compete with her, no one for her to protect and be big sister to, it all just seems so lonely. But, that being said too I know plenty of people that have one child and they are doing just fine.

We're at that fork in the road. I know that I'll make the right choice, or as most things in life, with faith it will get made for me. Definitely looking for a sign...

Vulnerable topic #1: Grilled cheeses

(Good friends have heard this, sorry for the repeat - too good not to share)

Most of my blog posts reflect on parenting and all that comes with. Switching gears with this one in an attempt to share some humor, and reality.

Friday night. Got home from work, after a brief Craigo's happy hour, and Dom is anxious to go to Johnny Finn's. Important detail here is the conversation on the phone in the car ride home. It was one of those that started, "yeah things are great, love you, love you too" and went to "yeah. fine. whatever. bye!"

Second important detail: Not a happy camper when I arrive home. I am also not one to just 'forget it' and move on the with the evening. I am a talker. I need to talk, talk some more, to the point of resolution and exhaustion. Dom - he can shut down and get silent, and it drives me CRAZY. So, I'm like an annoying mosquito he can't kill. Lovely way to start the weekend.

He goes over to the stove to make a grilled cheese sandwich for dinner because clearly we are not going anywhere. He has his back to me, and I am going and going and going, and then I crossed the line. I questioned him, his manhood, and all things never to be spoken of again - I ask, "where did your balls go?"

GASP.

That was it, I did it. I went there - that place in an arguement you should never go but realize quickly there is no return. You must face it, own up to it, and apologize excessively.

So I made my comment and it went still, and silent in our house. Dom turns around with frying pan in hand, and hurls the grilled cheese across our kitchen, into the dining area. Spatula quickly followed and landed in the corned. I am standing there, staring, and coming to terms with the fact that a grilled cheese just launched my direction.

He grabs his keys, heads for the door, and is gone until 9:00 p.m. that night. Note to self: NEVER SAY THAT AGAIN. Oh, and we need bread.