I think I've done you a disservice.
I received an email recently that asked me if I was sure that I wanted another child so badly when I seemed to do a lot of complaining about parenting my first. My first reaction was to send a terse reply along the lines of "Thanks for the unsolicited advice! It's my favorite!". But, then I started thinking about what I write here and how often I write about the woes of parenting and the annoyances of life. And I realized I couldn't blame her for thinking that (I do reserve the right to blame her for saying it though).
So, to set the record straight: I love my daughter with the heat of seven suns. I love being her mommy. I love her sweet sweet face and shrill giggle and gap-toothed grin. I love her soft skin and upturned button nose. I love her fleshy little arms wrapped around me.
But, I assume you know that. I also assume you know that I love my husband even though he pisses me off. And I love flowers and sunshine and puppy dogs and ponies. Just so there's no more confusion.
The thing with writing about parenting is that we write to connect, to empathize, to relate. You can only read about the wonder that is Savannah for so long until you wonder "Okay, where's the good stuff? The stuff that makes me feel like I'm not the only one struggling out here sometimes? You know, the snot and vomit and whining and fighting and stircraziness and laundry and frustration?". Just because we share these things does not mean that we don't have a steady undercurrent of love for our children and fascination with the job we have in raising them.
So, in answer to Miss Email Person, yes. Yes, I am sure that I want another child. And yes I am sure that I will bitch and moan about that one too. And yes, I will love them with every beat of my heart. So there.