Something strange started happening to me a few months after I gave birth to my son (and no, I'm not talking about my horror-movie levels of hair loss or disturbing desensitization to poop). Almost as soon as I returned from maternity leave, people began to hit me with, "So when are you going to have another one?"
Another one? Another baby? Surely I misheard. The ink on my first kid’s birth certificate had barely dried. But I didn't mishear. And now that my son’s approaching his first birthday, I field that question nearly weekly.
I do realize these inquiring minds mean well. I get it. We're programmed to love babies — the human race couldn't continue otherwise. I should just take it as a compliment that people trust me to mold more young minds. Or chalk it up to natural curiosity or slightly outsized smalltalk.
But perhaps some people underestimate the weight of this question. Maybe my family feels complete with the kid I've got (he is perfect in my very biased opinion). Maybe the financial burden a second kid would impose is too much for my meager wallet to bear (after all, childcare costs almost as much as rent). Maybe I'm trying and failing to conceive again (an estimated 3 million couples struggle with secondary infertility). Maybe I am secretly pregnant (just kidding, Mom, I’m not!). Or maybe I'm simply too tired right now to contemplate what multiplying the current chaos wrought by my toddler would do to my life. All valid reasons to hold your tongue.
Now, there are plenty of polite ways to shrug off this questioning, but sometimes the situation merits a little more sass, and a simple, "mind your own business" doesn’t always cut it. So the next time someone asks you about kid number two (or three or four), flash your biggest IDGAF smile and clap back with one of these.
"Sorry, what did you say? I couldn't hear you over the cries of my VERY NEEDY FIRST CHILD."
The one time when the kid's screams come in handy.
"The next time my birth control fails me."
If you can't handle the TMI response, don't ask the personal question, Carol.
"As soon as my first kid can pay his own daycare bills."
…or his share of the rent or the grocery bills or his college fund…
"We're just waiting for George R.R. Martin to finish the next installment of Game of Thrones."
Just think of the baby name inspiration it'll yield!
"As soon as doctors perfect childbirth via teleportation."
Because let's be honest, my body has yet to recover from kid number one.
"Wow! I'd better stock up on this under-eye concealer if it's convinced you I'm well-rested enough to take on another kid."
In reality, I haven't gotten a good night's sleep since before I got knocked up.
"Once we get bored with our existing kid. Should be any day now!"
Looks like I won't be getting that Mother of the Year award after all…
"Carol, have you been taking comedy classes? Because your joke timing is getting SO good!"
Then laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh. Carol truly is hilarious.
"Oh my gosh, that's so sweet of you to offer to pay for the new addition to our house we'll need for another kid!"
Once I get your check, we'll get right on the baby-making. I'll also accept cash or Venmo payments.
"What are you talking about? I've already got dozens of children!"
Then begin naming off and tending to your imaginary children with a crazed look in your eye until the question-asker backs away slowly.
Does this count as gaslighting?
"We have a contract out to some embryos"
We're just waiting for one to agree to our terms, which include sleeping through the night at birth, eating everything without complaint, and producing rose-scented bowel movements.
Seems reasonable.
"We're going to start trying ... on Marchtember Oneteenth."
Also known as pulling an April Ludgate.
