When we were stopped at a gas station off I-94 this past weekend, Nourit spied a McDonalds next door, complete with a brand new Playspace. Now, we secretly love to play the elitist game of pointing to the big yellow 'M' in front of other people and asking "What's that?", then giggling at the shocked looks when our girls sweetly say, "I don't know" or "Old MacDonalds". How could a child not be intimately acquainted with McDonalds?
We have just had enough other choices when it comes to food, and have been able to avoid going there (because we're busy frequenting all the bakeries in Chicago, for instance.) We're pretty conscious about what we eat, and tend not to eat out much at all (but that is mostly because we're poor!) We were thrilled when they opened Panera along the route to Grandma's house because it gave us an alternative to fast fried food. But...I do like me a cheeseburger and fries when I'm prego, so Nourit has been to McDonalds at least once, not that she remembers. Also not sure I told my husband that yet...
Anyway, back to the gas station and the Playspace across the road. Nourit's interest was piqued and she tried to figure out a way to get us to take her and Avi there. "Can we go in and play for 5 minutes?" No, because we'd have to eat there, and we aren't buying food there. "Can't we just pay to go into the play area without eating?" she queried. That's when I dropped the bomb and told her that she had already been to a McDonalds (and perhaps that very same one) when I was pregnant with Avi, because "I usually go at least once when I'm pregnant, because of the cravings."
Then it started. The girls want a sibling.
They started lobbying for a little sister or brother on the car ride home. "You mean to tell us you love each other so much, you want another sibling?" Mike asked. "Yes!!" they both cried simultaneously. Did they not recall the last hour of fighting over toys in the backseat? "And then we can go to Old McDonalds!" piped up Avi. Ahhh...the real reason.
I would like to have a third baby sometime - and not just for the chance to have a cheeseburger, fries and Coke without guilt. Hopefully, though, we can work it out so that I'm like that gorgeous woman in her mid-40's I met last summer with a brand new baby boy and two doting daughters that were old enough to help change diapers. She looked so happy (and rested) that whenever I get anxious that I'm getting too old, I just have to think of her blissed-out visage and I feel I can be little more patient.
Tonight, though, Avi started again, even picking out a name for the baby, definitely a girl. "We can call her by my name!" So we'd have...Nourit, Avi and Avi. Anyone remember the old Newhart show with Larry, Daryll and Daryll? I can see some similarities already. "Or, pooh face!" (that's more like it), "or Lightening the Queen!"
Maybe we'll wait until she at least old enough to help pick a decent name, if not change diapers.