"Whoever you are stop whatever you are doing right now." It
had come to this.
You have one child. You hear something breaking and you know who the
culprit is. Add a second child and things get a little bit tricky.
Add yet another child, three cats and a Bassett hound and someone is either
breaking something, vomiting on something or just doing something they
shouldn't be doing at all waking hours. Probability is working against
you in this situation.
Growing up, I never really thought about having kids. Sure, I had baby
dolls; Cabbage Patch kids the whole gambit. Hell, I even use to dress up
my dog in baby clothes and make him eat while sitting in a toy high
chair. Max was such a good dog. Even when Mr. P and I were dating
the subject of kids never really came up. It wasn't that I didn't have
any maternal genes. I didn't kill houseplants. All of my cats were
fed, accounted for and healthy. I just never really thought about it.
Then the big 3O was fast approaching and we decided that if we were going to
have a baby it was time to get this party started. Eventually I became
pregnant with my daughter A. She just kind of fell comfortably into our
life. She was independent, not very high maintenance for a baby.
Sure you had to change her diaper, feed and water her but besides that she
wasn't very clingy.
While heavily pregnant with A I had professed to my husband that I was only
having one baby and it was for him. Sheepishly after my daughter's first
doctor's appointment I had to admit that I had drunk the Kool-Aid and wanted
another child.
Fast forward to about a year and a half and I was pregnant with the
GMan. I was so pregnant I was rolling off the couch just to get off the
furniture. I was crabby, moody the biggest bitch around. We can see
where this is going. No more babies again I profess. Then they cut
me open and pull out little GMan and the hormones and pain killers turn me into
a pod person. I bond to him really quickly. This is unusual
for me because I am not a baby person. I would rather deal with a toddler
that has just flushed my keys down the toilet then a helpless baby. As we are leaving the hospital I tell my husband that we should think about having another baby. He looks at me like dog who is trying to understand what their human master is saying. You know the tilted head, the eyes that squint He says maybe we should think about this for a while.
It took about a year to convince Mr. P. But we eventually decided to throw our hat in
the ring and try for one more baby. I had made the joke that because A
and the GMan were so big almost 9 pounds that they next baby would definitely
top that. Boy was I wrong. After an eventful and
stressful pregnancy that ended about 2 and a half months early little micro HP
came into our world. He weighed a little over a pound and couldn't even
fit into a preemie onesie. To say we where thrown into different world was an understatement. You forget how to do the simplest things that you have become a pro at after having two kids. I can remember trying to change his diaper while he was in the bed in the NICU. My brain would not function. It was almost like I was trying to diaper a doll.
My life is busy, noisy and hectic. I can't imagine my children absent
from my life. I would rather live this la vida loca they any other life
then I can imagine.
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