Norah had woken up more times than normal the night before. She didn’t want to go down for a nap. I was tired, physically and emotionally. Frustrated, I put Norah down in her crib so I could leave her room and calm myself down, walked out to the living room where Kyle was, and announced to him that I was done having children.

“I’m done with having kids. No more children.”

Of course, making that kind of decision out of frustration isn’t something that Kyle would let me do, but at that moment in time, I just felt it. And bless Kyle’s heart, because he has told me that he’s done after two kids and he very well could have skipped off to Dr. Snippy so I couldn’t go back on my statement. The fact that he didn’t just goes to show how much he cares about me and doesn’t want me to decide on something so permanent when I’m having a moment of defeat in parenting.

Was it a bluff? Not in particular. Am I seriously done having kids? Well … I don’t know. There are most definitely moments where I’m screaming in my head, “That’s it! I’m done! NO MORE!” and then the following day the girls will turn my heart to mush and my uterus gives me the ol’ wink wink nudge nudge and I think, “Ah, what’s one more?!”

Except having three kids is a total game changer and the decision to have “just one more” is proving to be a lot tougher than the decision to have a second child. I know everything right now is just a phase, just like it was when Isla was an infant, and that if/when we have a third Isla will be in kindergarten so that will alleviate some of the chaos at home, but it doesn’t make things easier, per say.

For one, we’d need to upgrade a lot of things in our lives. Goodbye, small, compact car that I can zip around easily in. Hello, behemoth minivan that better come with a rearview backup camera because MOVE OVER, MOMMA’S COMIN’ THROUGH!

Then, there’s the whole “Where do they all sleep?” issue. While I have nothing against room sharing, I know they can’t/won’t want to share a room forever, so we’ll eventually have to upgrade our house to something with more bedrooms. Space is fairly tight as it is right now but we’re managing okay; adding a fifth body will make things a little too cozy for our personal likings.

And of course, all three of them are going to be brilliant and will want to go to med school, so there goes any plans for an early retirement. Goodbye, snowbirding. Hello, second mortgage!

I know all of this makes us sound horribly selfish but sometimes you have to look at things with your head rather than with your heart, and I think that’s the point I’m at right now. If I were to draw out a Pros and Cons chart, the cons would most definitely outweigh the pros. In fact, I can’t think a good reason why I want a third, other than the fact that I don’t feel done having kids yet. I don’t even want to have a third just so we can “maybe” have a boy. I’ve discussed this before, but having a boy isn’t a big deal to neither Kyle nor I.

In time we’ll make our decision together, when I’m not about to pop a blood vessel because Norah has been fighting her beauty rest and she’d rather scream in my face than get some shut eye. For now, we’re content with our two children and having an equal parent to child ratio. If number three is in that crystal ball somewhere, we’ll make room and love him or her just as much as numbers one and two.