.... It all started when I pregnant with baby #2 and we'd discovered "it" was a boy. People would look at Emory and then remark, "Well, you're done then. Lucky you."
Who made the rule that the goal of child-bearing is one boy and one girl? What about those of us who kind of like having kids and don't mind a house-ful of ankle biters? Sure, there are days (today would be one) that I am so ready to be done with parenting for the day that I say no when the big girl asks for more songs and tell her it's time for bed and to hush. But mostly, I enjoy being Mama, as long as I got a full 8 the night before. I can get by on a sweet 7, but 8 is much much better for the family.
Now that I am finally showing, I am getting all kinds of comments about the length of time between what will be the younger two children. Now, this was not a planned pregnancy, but neither is it unwanted. I could live without the nausea and mind-numbing fatigue, but in the end we get another sweet smelling member of the Skocelai tribe, so it's all good.
I get that some folks only want 2 kids or even 1, and that's cool. I think it's very wise to know your limits and operate within them. Some people would love more and it's just not happening for them. That's a sad place to be and I hurt for them. But my word! Strangers treating me like I am out of my mind for being pregnant is starting to get old. I got news... God controls the circumstances, all of them, and sometimes we end up somewhere we never expected to be. I can sulk that family planning was taken out of our hands or find a way to rejoice in His plan for us, knowing it to be perfectly unflawed.
Rejoice! And again I say, rejoice!