Baby.

Livie is starting to hit milestones earlier and earlier than her sisters did before her. She is just shy of eight months old and she sits independently, is starting to babble, and very close to crawling. Her sisters were slow movers, always content just crying until you’re brought them whatever they wanted. Livie is so different, so independent. I can see already that she is going to be a handful whenever she’s up and moving. I joke that I will sit on her when she starts crawling, and push her down if she starts to walk. But, I’m serious. I can’t handle that yet. Not only will it add to the chaos that is my life already, I know that as soon as she loses her “baby appeal” I’ll need a new one.

I know, that sounds absolutely insane. How could I possibly want another baby? How could I possibly handle another baby? No matter how insane it sounds, it’s true. I love mothering tiny little babies. It’s not that I want to try for a boy; I’d honestly be just as happy with another girl. There is something so amazing about being the one person on the planet who can provide any and all things needed for another human being. There is no better feeling than having someone look at you like you are the world.

How could I want all the diapers, and the crying and the teething…. How could I want to go through another pregnancy, and labor…

Oh, but the first time they fall asleep on your chest… the first latch and the first smile. The first laugh. The first time they grab your finger, or say mama.

Ok, let’s have another one.

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Lucky for us, I currently have an IUD, so we can’t make such a decision so quickly. We constantly go back and forth, and mainly we land on having another child. That would make us a family of six. SIX! Each of us would always have to manage two… yes we are crazy. I say we, because just as often as I say, “let’s have another,” Sean says it too. He may even say it more, but he might just say it to get me into bed… hm.

 

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Song of the day:

 

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