It seems like everybody is pregnant, right? People at whose blogs I lurk are pregnant. Friends who have amazing sewing blogs are pregnant. My two best friends are pregnant. And then today Cassie announced that she was, in fact, pregnant.
I have to admit that when I read Cassie’s pregnancy announcement on top of all of the others, I just felt sad. I said aloud, “I am sad. I want a baby. Quick, Silas, do something bad.”
Silas then proceeded to come over to my computer while I was attempting to engage Cassie in a celebratory G-chat. He pressed some random button, making the screen go black and rendering all buttons useless. While I proceeded to be confused and finally succumb to an entire system restart, he went into the kitchen, opened a cabinet, found a container of oatmeal, and spilled it all over the floor.
And then I said, “Ah, birth control at its finest.”
I have also put him to bed and made myself brownies. I feel a lot better about life.
I know, there’s something in the water here too. In the past month I know at least 10 people who found out they are pregnant. I’m happy for all of them, but my cup is also dry. Good thing I just dealt with a two hour scream fest on the way home from Dallas.
Sweet friend, God’s ways are above our ways. He gives us strength and comfort to endure what we think we can’t handle. (I’m preaching to myself through all my questions and worries about baby number 2.)
I hardly believe that little boy can do no wrong.
I almost typed that with a straight face.
C’est la vie, I suppose. I often tell people as they walk past me and my brood, “Birth control, people.”
Whenever my baby-fever hits, er, fever-pitch, I think about global warming. Drought. Pestilence.
It doesn’t really help much. So then I take a nap in the middle of the day, or spend 5 hours reading a book. Or watch a marathon of dirty, dirty HBO programming. Or I think about how nice it is that the only one who bothers me when I go to the bathroom is my dog. That stuff kind of helps.
Kind of.
I do selfishly want you to have another baby just because you make such darling ones, but I have to say that I really admire the relationship between Tracey and her brother that was only able to happen because they were born five years apart. So enjoy the time with Silas, I say, and Baby #2 will be all the better off for it.