When I daydream about my son having a younger sibling, I tend to jump a few years in the future. When the baby crazies kick in, I get that pretty picture of my little boy at around six-years-old, sweetly and protectively playing with a younger brother or sister around three-years-old.
Or I think of having a big round preggo-belly and explaining to my son that his little brother or sister is in there, and him giggling when mommy's tummy jumps and bounces around.
Or, having a newborn baby, whom my son will stare at adoringly and beg to be allowed to hold, and we will if he sits on the couch right next to us and is very careful.
Fortunately, the real me is cynical enough to shake off these hormonal delusions and foresee the realistic scenario a 2nd baby would mean right now. And because I'm one cold, analytical chick at heart, I like to carefully weigh out the pros and cons.
