Am I Up "Four" the Challenge?
Thanks for all the well-wishes on the last post, y'all! It feels weird to be pregnant again, because I honestly thought that my chances for another baby were slim to none, and getting slimmer as time progressed. (Don't tell my husband, but I was actually getting used to the idea of just having my three dudes.) It had gotten to the point where I'd actually encouraged Curtis, multiple times, to call for an appointment to get the big "snip-snip" per our earlier agreement. If I had a dollar for every time I said, "If we're done having kids, you'd better schedule that vasectomy" ... well, we could afford a fourth child. Hehe.
It's good, though. I'm so over-the-top excited! So is Curtis, which helps. He might have sometimes acted like another kid would be nothing short of a crisis, but the way his face lit up in a smile when he heard the news, I can officially and undeniably say he's happy about it.
I can't help but wonder, though, how in the HELL I'm going to adjust to FOUR CHILDREN. I kinda remember feeling this way when I was pregnant with Coby, but that was three and this is four. F-O-U-R!!!!! I have my doubts because sometimes - okay, most of the time - I feel like I'm halfway inept at handling the ones I already have.
Like yesterday morning, five minutes before I was scheduled to leave the house to make my nine o'clock Zumba class on time. I was putting my shoes on in the bedroom when apparently Cameron and Coby decided that our fish were hungry, and therefore needed the entire bottle of fish food dumped into their water. So with absolutely zero time to spare, I was forced to remedy the situation via the most frantic fish-water change in the history of the world. I probably still smelled like fish when I showed up to Zumba.
I'm almost positive sometimes that the kids and the pets secretly conspire to drive me insane. Last night was a prime example. Number one, I was jolted from sleep by the sound of our pug, Destiny, licking her lips repeatedly - which can, in my experience, only mean one thing: vomit. I thought she was getting ready to hurl, so I tossed her off the bed (where she feels entitled to sleep) and crouched next to her in the dark, holding a piece of dirty laundry under her mouth. (Hey, better that than the carpet, right?) She stopped the lip-smacking, though, so I thought I was wrong. Until I got back into the bed and laid right on top of something cold and squishy. Yep: she'd barfed BEFORE I threw her off the bed. And I? Was touching it.
There's nothing like middle-of-the-night laundry.
Incident number two happened roughly an hour later, when Cameron - who is completely potty-trained by day and only occasionally pees during the night - wet the bed. He'd been wearing a Pull-Up when he went to sleep, but had mysteriously removed it at some point. And of course, it was after that point when he decided he needed to pee. All over the sheets and comforter that I had just washed the day before.
More middle-of-the-night laundry.
And speaking of pee, The Fetus is definitely in on the conspiracy even at this young age. Because he or she is directly responsible for why I need to wake up an extra 2,177 times per night to go to the bathroom. But I guess it's only going to get worse from here on out for a while: first the huge uncomfortable sleeplessness of late pregnancy, and then the mind-numbing, did-I-just-drool-on-myself fatigue that accompanies a newborn.
With stuff like this happening on a regular basis - finding a whole (soggy) roll of toilet paper clogging up the bathroom sink, discovering a frozen-solid Elmo toy in the freezer (which means he was wet when he went in, and I don't even want to know why), taking my two-year-old to the emergency room because he was climbing on the counters and fell off and hurt his elbow, realizing that someone pooped but didn't wipe - I'm pretty sure I'm more than slightly in for it once I add another little mischief-maker to the mix.
I lost three blog followers when I announced that I'm expecting #4. They were probably like, "Damn, this is gonna be a train wreck. I can't bear to watch!"