As I chat with a fellow mom while our daughters twirl around in their tutus, she asks, “How far apart are your kids?”
“Five years,” I respond, anticipating the usual surprise.
“Did you plan it that way?” she queries, catching me off guard. Conversations about family planning usually don’t delve this deep.
I find myself answering honestly, “Well, I experienced two pregnancy losses in between.” Surprising myself with my candor, I realize I’m tired of sugarcoating my journey. I omit the details about my divorce and remarriage, which also contributed to the timing of my two children.
She quickly regains her composure, though it’s clear my answer startled her. If you’re going to ask about someone’s family planning, be prepared for the truth—even if it’s uncomfortable.
Honestly, I never intended for a five-year gap between my kids. As a young dreamer, I imagined having two or three children close in age and finishing my family by 30. But life took unexpected turns—separation, divorce, basal temperature charts, and too many disappointing pregnancy tests.
Yet, despite the challenges, there are undeniable perks to this arrangement. For instance, when my second child was born, my oldest was in kindergarten all day. It felt like a fresh start with a second baby, but I wasn’t gripped by the same fears as before. Some days, it even resembled a vacation (albeit a pants-less one) where I could binge-watch my favorite shows while nursing a content baby. Can I sign up for that again?
Having kids five years apart means tackling puberty discussions with one child while helping the other navigate potty training. It involves listening to Kidz Bop blaring from upstairs while “The Wiggles” sing about hot potatoes downstairs, all while wishing for a little 1980s nostalgia on the radio.
It’s about guiding one child through the awkward years of hair obsession and wardrobe changes while reassuring the other that mommy will always return from preschool pick-ups. It means comforting both kids as they cry for different reasons.
The age gap brings together a mix of Daniel Tiger and Austin & Ally—oh, how I wish for more Grey’s Anatomy and Scandal! It’s a delightful surprise when they find a show they both enjoy, like Transformers: Rescue Bots.
Weekend clean-up means vacuuming up goldfish crumbs while listening to my older child wail about the unfairness of having to do her own laundry. I help my eldest with homework while pretending to engage with my youngest’s imaginative tales of transforming into a unicorn or a robot, because why not?
Family trips to Disneyland hold unexpected magic. I knew my preschooler would be thrilled to see Doc McStuffins, but who could predict that my nine-year-old would scream, “I love you, Ariel!” during the parade?
Having kids five years apart brings a constant sense of wonder as I watch them play together, genuinely enjoying each other’s company. Whatever Jungle Kids is, it’s the game that unites them. I marvel daily at their affection for one another.
In summary, having kids five years apart is a blend of humbling gratitude, frustrating moments, and pure joy. It’s not how I envisioned my family planning would unfold, but truly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
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