With the last post, I mean. I was not making an ANNOUNCEMENT. Well, I was but in a different way.
I heard from a few of you that I thought I was going to say: "Baby #4 is on the way!" Truly that was not my intent. In fact, it was the complete opposite. I wanted it to be recorded loud and clear that there will be: No. More. Baby. Lonacs.
What I was hoping to accomplish in my last post was to make sure everyone knew where we were at in our family size (MOM!). From now on if I say "Guess What?" I do not want the first response to be: "You're Pregnant!!" We are 99.9% sure we will not be having any more babies. So, please, put that far far from your mind.
I still remember sitting in a friends house one night, when a good friend made an announcement. "Guess what?" She said. No responses from us sitting there. "T. is going to be a big sister!" Seeing as how her baby was 5 months old, my first thought was: "You're getting a dog?" Obviously that did not make sense, but I couldn't imagine that the next words were going to be: "I'm pregnant!" That was a complete shock.
So for future reference (mostly this means you, mom) when I make an announcement, I hope the first thing you think of is: "Oh, they are getting another dog."
When Finn turned 1, I was desperate for another baby. I knew his first birthday would be hard. The last time we would do these specific traditions, but I didn't realize how much I would WANT another baby. It was more then just "my baby is getting big" phase. I wanted to have four kids.
Since Finn was born I have been asked over and over "Are you going to try for a girl?" I would just laugh and say, "Do you think I would have a girl? 4 boys seem like a lot." But when Finn turned 1, I didn't care. 4 boys, 3 boys and a girl, 3 boys and twins. I would take any of it, I just wanted to have another baby.
On his birthday Brandon even was feeling some twinges of baby dreaming. When we were celebrating Finn's birthday with my family my grandma asked if we were done. We looked at each other and smiled. Maybe not, I was thinking. Maybe we will have one more. I was giddy with the prospect of being pregnant, giving birth, holding one more little bitty baby.
But then we went camping. 3 days after Finn turned 1, we were sleeping in the tent trailer on the first of our marathon camping summer. Between the camping experience and Finn learning to walk, I changed my mind.
It wasn't just that 4 kids would be a lot, I don't think I could handle one more. Finn was in the fire pit, trying to climb the slippery log, chasing after his brothers. I was exhausted. The best part of the trip was when I fell asleep trying to get Finn to take a nap and stayed asleep. Otherwise, chasing the 3 boys around the campsite was exhausting, fun, but exhausting.
Now, we have only 1 boy in diapers. Everyone is walking. I only have to grab my purse when I leave the house. This is good. I still miss being pregnant, I will really miss nursing, and I even miss going to the hospital to deliver the baby. I truly loved the experience having babies gave me and I will miss that.
But it is time to move on. Look at the next stage where we are not focused on feeding schedules, nap-times, which parent is on point. But can start to do more things as a family, go hiking, even biking, play games together. This is good, I know it is.
On my 30th birthday I did not have a fancy party, in fact, the actual day was spent driving to Grants Pass, OR and eating take-out in a motel. But I did say that I was going to do something big when I turned 30. I narrowed it down to either, a tattoo, or fixing the gap in my front teeth. Obviously, I chose the tattoo. I loved my gap in my teeth, had always considered it to be kind of a family trait. One of my cousins on my dad's side has an even bigger gap. So, when I look at mine, I think of my dad's family and it feels like one more little connection.
Now I am turning 35, well not until next April, and the gap seems to be bigger then ever. It is in fact growing. I asked my dentist and he confirmed that it was bigger and will continue to get bigger. This has caused me some serious anxiety. Maybe I should get it fixed now. Close the gap, so to speak.
Then tonight I saw this. Well, there you go. I think I am back in love with my gap. It is not wide enough to hold a cigarette in, but it is handy as a straw holder. I think I am going to have to find that documentary, a whole movie focused on 'gaptoothed' women?
Honey, I'm throwing away the night retainer, gaptoothed women are styling! Who Knew??!
I had great plans. Really great plans. I had a list of work related items to accomplish (MOPS, Sunday school, lesson planning) but then I was going to write. I was going to write several blog posts and just save them. I have had lots of ideas floating around in my head. I was so excited.
Then I spent 2 1/2 hours creating a flyer. A FLYER!! One that will probably not even be used or seen or even draw people in. Nonetheless, I spent my entire free time trying to figure out how to add graphics, move those darn graphics, and add a border. A BORDER! That took me a good half hour at least.
I used to be good at this. Creating newsletters, flyers, documents. First for my job as a program assistant at an adoption agency and then as a teacher. 5 years of motherhood and I am a total and complete novice. My husband would die if he saw the brutal text boxes, image copying, and font styles I have attempted. He would also be laughing at my 'think-hair' and the many times I threw my hands in the air and loudly *sighed*. In public, at a coffee shop. I am pretty sure the little girl sitting at the table next to me thinks I am crazy.
Alas, it is now 6:00, I only accomplished 1 thing on my todo list and it is time to go home. Dinner, bed-time, clean-up, and I might attempt to get back on-line. But if I do, I really should plan my lessons for Monday. Or for Sunday, for that matter. Or send out the RSVP's I promised I would do yesterday.
My MIL has this amazing talent to point out your every flaw. Case in point:
Last week we met my in-laws for dinner. Upon scooting into the booth, my MIL asks, "What is that on your face".
Umm, nothing. Awkward silence as the other adults at the table avert their eyes because they are all aware what is on your face.
"No, right there that big red thing, what is it?" Nothing, seriously, don't worry about it.
"Do you need to see the doctor?" No.
"Is is some sort of bite?" NO.
"Did you get hit in the face by something while you were working outside, it looks bad." No, and no. Just drop it.
"But it is all red, and looks like it has some pus or something, it is all white on the end." I know what it looks like!
So much for pretending the Mt. Rushmore size zit on my face is "not noticeable" and yes by the time you are in your *ahem* thirties, I thought acne was a thing of the past. But I guess not and thanks, MIL, for destroying the illusion that maybe nobody would notice. Now, I feel so much better.