2006 will go down as the first year since 2000 (including 2000) that I haven't been pregnant. I say that and think "that can't be right." But it is. For at least part of every year since Y2K, I've been pregnant at least part of the year. Except this one. And I'm partly sad, but mostly okay with it. Every day that goes by, my life gets a little easier. Baby S - not so much a baby anymore as a toddler - is becoming ever so independent. She is, in fact, helping herself to a cookie as I type. Be right back.
Mr. T is in school all day and while I miss him, it's so nice to grocery shop with just two kids again. Miss G is in preschool and for those five hours a week, I only have one child to worry about. And she's usually sleeping then. I can actually get things done without having to answer 356 questions about what I'm doing.
I said to a mother at school the other day that it's now or never. We either have the fourth child now or we stay at three. In the past, I've said that I think I will regret not having another years from now. Lately, I'm not so sure. I think if I'd gone into my pregnancy with Baby S thinking it was my last, I would be okay with it having been my last. I've been trying to enjoy her babyhood as if she were my last child. Maybe that's why I don't feel as called to have that fourth baby anymore.
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