5 good reasons to have kids

I always knew I would have children, if given the chance. Even though I was the oldest of four, that didn't sour me on the parenting thing. I've got maternal instincts in abundance. I'd mother anything from a homeless kitten to an exhausted honeybee. I liked to babysit. I'd tell my boy cousins scary stories for hours (until I was asked to stop by my aunt -- they were having nightmares), and I'd style the hair of my girl cousins into elaborate braids and pigtails. Then I'd get my $5 and go home.

When you've got your own kids, however, there's no going home alone -- and no time off for good behavior. You're on the job 24/7, including holidays. It's relentless, and you tend to complain about the downsides rather than dwell on the good things.

Some friends of ours are thinking of starting a family. I've been told by one such friend (none too gently) that I'm not much of an advocate for procreation. He's right, I'm a whiner. I like to think I spin my tales of parental woe with a certain flair, but there's no disguising the fact that I'm a sissy.

So to put his mind at rest, I figured I could come up with 10 good reasons to have kids (only one of which may be slightly sarcastic) Here's the first 5:

1. You'll open the door to a hidden room. When I had my first baby, and he looked right at me with his dark, unfathomable eyes, I had the strangest experience. It was as if I'd walked into the house I'd grown up in and discovered a hidden door. Opening the door, I found an endless collection of treasures, each one spectacular and unique. How could I have spent so much time in this house and never come across this door? Who knew there were so many incredible things hidden away? I thought I could never love anyone more deeply and with such intensity than SO, until that baby was placed in my arms. He revealed to me a part of myself I didn't know existed.

2. You'll see a reflection of yourself. When it came to the boys, the DNA fairy didn't spend much time mixing up our genes -- she just divided them equally. Sport favors my side of the family; LegoGuy is his father's son. When Sport was a tot, he looked so much like my baby pictures that I put him in one of my dresses and felt a shiver of recognition. It was like looking in the mirror. When he has an emotional outburst, I know exactly where he's coming from, because I've been there. LegoGuy is laid back, a watcher rather than a doer. We used to call him an old soul. He's easy going and has a great sense of humor. He's so much like his dad. "Yes, he's mine," I think sometimes, when one of them behaves exactly the way I did at his age. He is me.

3. You'll remember your childhood more fondly. Our children are gripped by the tyranny of choice. They simply have too many things to choose from for their entertainment: Xbox, MySpace, iPods, Gameboys, a room full of toys, a garage full of sports equipment. If they aren't entertained for 16 hours a day, they moan about boredom. It's times like these you'll be tempted to talk about your own childhood, but it's best to reminisce to yourself. The kids won't get it. They can't fathom having only 3 dolls to play with, or sharing a pair of skates with your brother and sisters, or riding a hand-me-down, oversized bike because your parents said you'd grow into it. How uncool is that? And no matter how crappy parts of your childhood were, you'll start to think of it fondly, with nostalgia: Shrinky Dinks, Big Wheels, Knicker Knockers, record players, Crissy dolls, building a rickety club house with the neighborhood kids, catching toads and fashioning a house for them out of bricks, playing hide-n-seek in the dark -- none of those experiences will translate well. But you'll remember, and you'll smile.

4. You'll laugh -- a lot. When kids start stringing words together into sentences, grasping key concepts and ideas, it's hilarious. They bring insight and innocence to topics we no longer give much thought to. Kids really do say the darndest things. One example-- while pregnant with Sport, we took it upon ourselves to explain the whole "birds and the bees" process to LegoGuy: male and female body parts, the egg, the millions of sperm racing up the birth canal.

"Millions of sperm?" LegoGuy's eyes widened.

"Yep, but only one can fertilize the egg," I told him.

"Hey, Mom -- I won!" Priceless.

5. You'll feel awe and wonder. Our first major purchase as parents was a video camera. We've managed to document most of the boys' milestones. When the kids are bored, they get the tapes out and have a good laugh at their chubby, toddler selves. Their father and I are transfixed by the changes to their bodies and minds in just a few short years. It's hard to believe when you're in the thick of it, but babies do grow up. And one day they'll leave, or so I've been told: "Enjoy the time you've got together. It doesn't last forever." I feel awe when I imagine that the infant I wrapped in a flannel bunny blanket will one day make his way into the world. And if we've done our job right, we'll be amazed.