On more than one occasion, I have blogged about my having only one kid and the grief that has caused me. Grief is really a strong word, but I don't know which word is the right word. Having one kid was a mostly intentional choice. Years ago we had decided that once we sold our house and moved into our larger one, we would try to have another kid. But we put our house on the market a year later than we anticipated, and by that time, I had gotten over the desire for another kid. Good thing, because we are still here in this same smallish house, in this crappy, crappy school district!
Most days I am glad that I am able to devote myself to my one child; she does not have to share my affection with anyone else. But, as I have mentioned countless times here and to others, it can be difficult being your child's playmate. I can take only so many Barbies, babies, and princess play times. I can never say, "Go play with your sister." But I love reading to my kid and enjoy most games with her (except when she is a sore loser, which is becoming a bad habit). I like taking J to the park and especially swimming with her, though I am not the biggest fan of playing tag at the former or mermaids at the latter. And it is nice just to hang out or run errands together.
But this week, I felt awful in many ways. The illness that kicked my butt pretty much left me unable to spend any time with my kid. Instead of running around the park or swimming at the pool, the poor kid was stuck at home. Yesterday, I finally felt well enough to take Jordan to the park, but I could not do much of anything but sit there. And of course, she wanted me to be her "customer" for her "bakeshop" which involved my getting up and pretending to order stuff, when I really just wanted to sit there and do nothing.
Fortunately, some kids from school showed up after almost an hour, but prior to that, I once again felt guilty for not giving Jordan a sibling, someone to play with, someone to hang out with. Someone who could have helped to occupy her time this week when I was stuck in bed or just feeling to lousy to do anything for or with her.
I have friends who also have only one kid, and they seem perfectly content with their choice. Why can't I be? Why must I worry that down the road I will one day regret this decision?