“So, when are you having more children?”

“Don’t you think it’s about time for another?”

“You can’t only have one!”

“She has to have a brother or sister.”

You get the idea. Between Griffin and I we probably have a conversation similar to this no less than 3 times a week. 3 times a week someone feels the need to inquire about something as personal as the future of our family. Granted, there are varying degrees to this conversation, depending on the boldness of the initiator, and if Schaeffer Jo is present of not.

It is especially comical when the inquisitor directs their questions to Schaeffer, whether or not she has any brothers or sisters, and when she replies–they respond with sympathy–almost always following up with a question about household pets. As if, it is ok for her to not have siblings as long as she has a dog or cat?

I understand that there are varying degrees of comfort with those who you have an intimate relationship with–those that you do daily life with. These are not the folks who I am addressing in this post. I’m talking about the random acquaintance from the gym, the overly friendly woman who knows you through someone else, the person who knows your mom’s best friend’s sister. You get the picture.

For me, there are days are take greater offense to the questions than others. It’s the days when I see another pregnancy or baby announcement on facebook. Or have accidentally wandered through the baby clothes aisle at Target. Or have thought too long about the fact that Schaeffer will never experience have the close-in-age sibling fun that I did at her age.

What could be more intimate, more personal than the choice–or for some, the struggle, to have another (or one) child? And, who is to say it is not ok for a family to have one child? What if that is the choice that we’ve made for our family?

Just keeping it real, blogworld. And, letting you know that if you still feel the need to ask me about our pending plans to have a baby–you may get a response that shocks you–like something about Chlamydia or some other falsehood that makes you feel as awkward as I do.