She Was Supposed To Be My Last

This is Olivia.

Olivia is...a bit...well....high-spirited.

I've always been afraid to have a boy because they are stereotypically mean, dirty, tough, feisty, stubborn, gross, rude, rambunctious, wild, defiant, loud, destructive and they pick their noses.

Indy is my son. He is sweet, observant, kind, sensitive, gentle and lovely. I lucked out.

Then I had Olivia and I got my boy.

Last Friday I sent Olivia off to her first day of preschool.

It was supposed to be a day of joyous cartwheels and breathing my own air.

It was supposed to be void of noise, worry, duties, sharing, needs.

It was supposed to be my youngest finally heading off to her first day of school...the beginning of my life back.

I was supposed to now go back to work, volunteer, study, write, go for a run, stare at the wall.

I was supposed to relish the memories of having three babies in diapers and knowing now that I am an accomplished potty-trainer.

I was supposed to have lunch dates, adult conversations, a clean house, naps, quiet.

I was supposed to learn to drive a stick, refinish a table, wander around the mall, eat a grown-up lunch.

Goodbye Olivia! Welcome back spontaneity, opportunity, freedom, fun!

But last October, I got pregnant and it changed everything in a split second. Last Friday wasn't as freeing as I had dreamed.

I now have a fourth child, Tatum Rose.

I am now changing diarrhea blow-outs, warming bottles, rocking, burping, bouncing, tip-toeing, not sleeping.

I am now packing around a diaper bag, stroller, car seat, bottle-warmer, formula, blankets, a change of clothes for me and the baby.

I am now in survival mode.

I feel like I should feel bitter.

And I was for about 9 months. But now I just feel lucky.

Lucky that my life changing event smiles, coos, kicks, drools, wiggles, snuggles, whimpers, snores, sleeps sometimes, needs me.

I'm in a new place.

A place where I get nothing done.

A place where my house isn't very clean, the laundry is never never ending, shopping is a juggling act, leaving the house is an event, getting a shower is a miracle, pajamas is an entire day's attire.

A place of contentment, joy, gratitude...and ironically, peace.

And Olivia?

I couldn't love her more. Down to her very last ounce of feisty!

I miss her when she's at preschool.

But I have another one to keep me company so I don't get too lonely or get too productive. That could be dangerous.