OMG I'm having a baby.

I really am.  This is real.  It’s going to happen.  And it keeps hitting me at the oddest times. Sitting in traffic: “We won’t be taking our vacation this summer because of the baby.” Doing the dishes: “I wonder if I have enough baby spoons.” Wrapping gifts: “This time next year, there will be a 6-month-old baby sitting next to me while I do this.” I can’t wait until I can feel the baby moving and kicking around all the time, when the baby and I are one another’s constant companions. I can start to get to know this child, and what kind of little person this is. And I can rub my belly where the little head is, and let this child feel how much it is already loved.

Oh, and I’ll probably also let my kids poke and prod my belly, and yell things into my belly button, and do things to startle the baby awake, too. I want it to understand what it’s getting into, here. There will be no tiptoeing around during naptime, no “do not ring” sign on the doorbell. My older 2 kids are going to have screaming matches while the baby’s trying to sleep. They’ll steal the baby’s stuffed animals for feeding to their remote-control dinosaurs, they’ll eat the baby’s vanilla teething biscuits, they’ll leap over the baby’s head to get to the toybox. I’ll yell at them for it, but I know they’ll do it. I was talking to a friend who has 4 kids, and she said, “Once you have more than 2, you’re outnnumbered. So you just do the best you can and hope the noise doesn’t bother the neighbors.” I want this child to fully understand the noise level, then. Because I would like for at least one of my children to sleep.

I am 15 weeks pregnant in this photo.  Crazy.

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