I fell down the stairs last night at 2:30 in the morning as I was scrambling down them to quiet Emil for the third time before he woke up
his brothers Oliver (Milo NEVER wakes up) and really busted myself up. Luckily the stairs to the third floor are carpeted, otherwise I am pretty sure I would have broken something. My tailbone is sure bruised and I have a nasty rug burn on the inside of my right arm which keeps rubbing against my shirt whenever I try to do, well, anything. And I swear I got whiplash.
But you know, these things happen and it could have been worse. The thing is, right before this happened, I was having another one of my oh-my-God-I’m-pregnant-with-my-fourth-child dreams. I have been having them pretty regularly and they freak. me. out.
In this particular dream, I was taking the pregnancy test and waiting for it to tell me what I already knew while I could hear Emil crying outside the bathroom door (his real-life cries must have entered my dream world before I woke up) and Oliver and Milo bickering in the background. And I felt completely and utterly scared out of my mind as the little blue line appeared. And then I woke up and fell down the stairs and thought, thank goodness I’m lying here at the bottom of the stairs with a broken bottom and not a pregnant belly. Is that terrible?
When I was young, I always knew I wanted to be a mom. I guess some people don’t know, and that baffles me in a way I can only compare to not knowing if you like chocolate. But kids aren’t exactly chocolate. Sure, they can be sweet and make you gain weight, but they are kind of a big responsibility. Unlike chocolate. But for some reason I thought I wanted four kids. And now? I guess my subconscious is struggling with that, because I don’t think I can handle four kids, yet I keep having these crazy four-kid dreams (correction: in one of the most recent dreams, I was pregnant with twins). We have decided we are happy with our family, and it will be so nice to move forward and out of the baby stage so that we can do fun stuff like travel (with and without them!). But I swear, every time I have one of these dreams, I wonder…
How do you really know when it’s “enough?”