So today I am 12 weeks pregnant with my third child. I am excited and nervous and decidedly disappointed with the general reactions of our family and friends. I should have told them I was getting a puppy. I’m aware I have another kid under 2 and, yes, I have a firm grasp of biology. I am intentionally having another child. On purpose. Right now.
Jay and I just didn’t feel done after the last one. Well, we did for about 5 months, but then we started sleeping again and we realized we liked the chaos. I really like my children. And who regrets another human being to love and be loved by? Also, these are the people who will take care of me in my dotage so I’m o.k. trying to stack the deck in my favor. Surely one of them will want to take Mom into their home when I’m no longer able to order myself dinner–because heaven knows if the children are grown I certainly won’t be cooking.
The baby is due in June, which is great for this school year, but means I have to again make decisions about working or not come August. Or what I will do with myself if I stay home. Who knows what my life will look like 7 months from now–well, louder and with me responsible for more poop, but other than that I’m not sure. I’m trying to keep my options open.