Raising and Loving Four Children Under Ten

When you barely have time to conceive, and have an even more difficult time confirming a pregnancy, it can make you doubt your own sanity. I remember when I found out about my fourth (and last) pregnancy. I had been complaining to Jehromy all week about how huuuungry I was, then food was making me sick. I'd crave something, eat it, and then wonder what possessed me to think that eating was such a great idea, what with the heartburn and nausea and all. And I'd been so tired, it was really annoying. So I told Jehromy today that I wanted to pick up an ept, because this really felt severe for pms. And he called shortly after I took it, wondering. So, the phone is ringing, all three kids are screaming, and I'm trying to pee on a stick. I answered the phone, glanced down, said "I guess we'll have to try again next month", and went about my evening. The next time I went to the bathroom, I glared at the offending piece of plastic in the trash can next to me, and it had changed to positive! I immediately called Jehromy back, and told him the good news. He said, "I don't how it happened.... I've been working so much! Congratulations!"

That should have been my first clue that life as I knew it was officially over. Each time we added a child to our growing family, people would tell me how much harder it would be. My response was always, "We've already got x number, what's one more?" Going from three to four turned out to be my limit, however. Getting a babysitter is next to impossible, and not because the kids are badly behaved. Getting a moment alone, or alone with my husband is a rare feat. So is getting to bed before eleven and staying there past one or two sometimes. But it isn't all bad. It isn't even mostly bad. I wouldn't trade this life for anything.

You see, I'm lucky enough to be a SAHM. I get to know my kids. I know their teachers and their friends. I lead Keeghan's Bear Scout troop, and help with Kathryn's Girl Scout activities, always with my preschooler and breastfeeding twelve month old in tow. Don't worry, I'm no supermom. I often wonder how working moms manage to do it all. My house is rarely as clean as I'd like it to be. But given the choice between cuddling my baby or scrubbing the floors, which would you choose?