Yes. I have a 16 month old.
Yes. I am expecting another baby in three months.
No. I don’t feel the need to panic about this nearly as much as so many people in my life seem to think I need to.
No. It’s really none of your business every third random person that I meet whose name I don’t even know to ask me if “this one was planned”.
Yes. By the way it was… (now would you care to tell me about your sex life too?)
Yes. I understand I will once again be sleep deprived. I understand I will be busy. I understand things are different with two children than they are with one.
No. I don’t understand how stressing out about those things would make them go away or help in the least.
Yes. I know it will be difficult. It will always be difficult when you have two kids… or ten kids… or one kid… regardless of their ages.
Yes. I know they will be close in age… I do in fact know basic math, believe it or not.
No. Your snide remarks about how this will effect them or us, that superior look you’re giving me because you spaced your kids 2-4 years apart, or the condescending “good luck” are not helping anybody.
No. I don’t think having kids close together is a big tragic mistake, just like I don’t think having them far apart would a big tragic mistake, or having them somewhere in the middle is good bad or otherwise. And I don’t think having kids in my early 20’s is a big tragic mistake, just like I don’t think somebody else having kids in their late 30’s is a big tragic mistake. And even if I did agree with you that we had made a terrible lapse in judgement, I’m 6 and a half months pregnant… what exactly would you expect me to do about it now anyway?
But thanks for your opinion.