To Three or not to Three?

I consider the question while stirring risotto.

I want a third child … I think. But there is so much to consider. Do I have the patience? Can I endure more sleep deprivation? Am I too old? Can my marriage handle it? Will the baby be healthy? Will one child be left out? Do I really want this?  The questions are endless and after a lot of consideration, there are no answers. Just nagging want. Is that enough? The questions continue.

My husband doesn’t want another. Our first was colicky and never slept more than 30 minutes at a time. The second cried less, but kept us awake for a couple years. Most babies do that, despite what advice books tell you. The best advice I can give is to throw them in the trash (the books, not the babies … as tempting as it can be). Our marriage suffered. We had different parenting styles and argued bitterly at 3am about what to do with the screaming baby. We were tired. We were grumpy. We weren’t ourselves. But then miraculously they both started sleeping and we found the people we lost in the desperation and piles of laundry. We made it, albeit, a little frayed.

This summer my husband and I were getting dressed for a friend’s wedding. I wasn’t pregnant and the kids were old enough to hang with Grammy for the night. I put on a slinky black dress and we were going to drink highballs, dance to hip hop, and hit McDonald’s on the way home. Old school.

“We have a boy and a girl!”, I answered while dancing to Rihanna  when a divorced dad of twin boys asked if we had kids.

“The kid jackpot!”, he yelled over the too-loud music and continued dancing alone on the shiny country club floor.

So why rip up a winning ticket? That, I can answer. I love my kids so much that there aren’t enough of them. I want two more hands splashing in the bath and another giggle at the dinner table. I want more hilarious one-liners only two year-olds can deliver and a tiny hot body, almost indistinguishable from my own, sleeping on my tummy.

Is three the tipping point? People have four, five, six kids. Couldn’t we manage three? Do I value my independence too much to sign up for two (or more) all-consuming years? Will I be regretful if I don’t? Will Shane ever come around? The unanswered questions rage on.

But limbo has it’s merits. I enjoy the kids with a rested mind that is creative, fun and able to weather their emotional storms. I can also make risotto. Risotto is a dish that is impossible to make with a baby. So tonight I’ll pour a glass of pregnancy contraband, cook risotto and toast to sleep and the unknown.

Risotto with preserved lemon and caraway seeds

The preserved lemons give this risotto a deep lemon flavour and the caraway perks it up. I’ve served it with prawns but would be good on its own or with any meat.

1 1/2 cups Aborio rice
3 tbsp olive oil
2 tbsp butter
1/2 tsp caraway seeds
1 large shallot
1 clove garlic, crushed
1/4 preserved lemon, chopped
1/2 cup dry white wine
6 cups homemade chicken stock (store bought really isn’t the same)
large squeeze fresh lemon
1/4 cup mascarpone cheese
1/2 cup Parmesan cheese, grated
Salt and pepper to taste

Bring the stock to a simmer in a medium saucepan. Toast the caraway seeds in large saucepan on medium heat for about a minute. Pour into bowl and set aside.

Heat oil and butter in the same saucepan. Saute shallot until soft. Add the garlic, preserved lemon, caraway seeds and rice. Stir, coating the rice in the onion mixture and cooking for a couple minutes until slightly translucent.

Add wine and stir until almost all is absorbed. Add stock, one ladleful at a time and stir until almost absorbed until adding the next. Continue until rice is tender but al dente. stir in Parmesan, mascarpone, squeeze with fresh lemon and salt and pepper to taste.