It's been such a long time since I wrote. Simply because between older children, a full time job and finding out I was pregnant with one more teensy monster- I didn't have the energy or the inclination to find very much of amusement for the last 11 months.
Fortunately for you, I have regained a sense of humour about life. Or about myself more accurately.
A week ago someone I love pointed out to me that we have more children than Poppa Smurf. That's an exaggeration, but point taken. We're DONE with this baby shit. First chance I get, I'm taking a pair of safety scissors (the only kind in the house) to my husbands scrotum. I hope that works.
Anyhow, a breakdown of my last 11 months.
You forget how much being pregnant sucks- until it happens again. You remember the swelling, the soreness, the weight gain and everything else, and wonder how you'd forgotten.
Then amidst: swearing; promises; threats; vows of eternal retribution; and (if you are lucky) a visit from a top notch OBGYN and (if you're as much of a pansy as I am) a beloved anesthesiologist- you have yet one more wee miracle to love.
They don't talk. They cry.
They don't use a toilet, they crap in your hand (and everywhere else they can) while you are nursing them.
They don't sleep at night when everyone else is sleeping. They sleep all day, giving you just enough time to clean (the mess the older kids made) and do the laundry- before they wake up again.
There is literally NO sleep for a stay at home parent until the baby is around 3 months old.
Also, she's a jerk. She cries constantly for me to hold her. I can't do that. I have to cook, clean, make lunches, make breakfasts, do laundry and have time to shower (which I often don't bother to do any more). So, I get to listen to her scream for about 3 hours every day.
Having said this, I love my newest baby very much indeed. She is very cute. I know I will look back at her baby pictures one day and wonder how I ever thought she was so very pretty (it's what I do with the older ones)- but for right now, I know she is lovely and happy and healthy.
And loved. Despite my complaining, I love every single minute with her.
Some people like a 4 year old (old enough to be out of diapers, and understand the word "NO"). But I'm a bigger fan of the age when they have to stay where you put them because they can't walk on their own. They get into less trouble that way.
This is the best she'll behave until she's in preschool. It's downhill from here.