It's not supposed to be Friday yet. I have barely noticed each day of this week as it went by. I suspect it's something to do with a federally mandated holiday, because I've seen more of my husband this month than I have in the past 7. (Hah! A Joke!) And we just spent a very long evening trying to get the Toddler to understand that just because Daddy's home it does not mean that we all get to stay up late and play.
I was talking to him earlier about how empty my arms are starting to feel, now that the Toddler is venturing into independance after so many months of needing my constant attention. He blurted out, "Just because she's going to go to preschool is not a reason to have another baby!" I thought that was cute, true, and very sad all at once. I know it's not a reason to have another baby. I just thought that, you know, we could think about having more little feet in the future. Say, in the next year or so. I'm not THAT greedy, I'll settle for just one more baby. Maybe two.
It's frightening how much I've grown to love being a mom. After all the nightmares getting here; all the second guessing I've done of myself. After all those months of endless depression. All those months. All those very LONG months. He doesn't want to do it again. He doesn't want to see me do it again. If he ever would, he wants a signed statement from my doctor to the effect that I'll not be as sick and unhappy. I just want a signed statement that I'll be able to go into labor with the next one. That I'll deliver close to term and be able to leave the hospital with a newborn instead of a bunch of balloons in my hand saying that I've had a girl but no baby. People try not to look, but they do, and I know they were wondering.
agh. Enough of this. I'm going to eat some more pizza and get in my jammies.
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