Yesterday we drove home from a relaxing, snowy weekend in Maine. I now cherish long trips - my children are great in the car (I think it's a genetic anomaly, but I'll take it!) and it's time that Charles and I get to talk. It's not uninterrupted, but we can usually catch up on a few things. While making grocery lists and planning ahead a few weekends, I took out my planner and realized that on this exact day last year we found out that I was pregnant. It was a Sunday morning. Charles was whipping up one of his great breakfasts and our lives seemed to be edging on manageable. We had talked about taking the plunge to add a third child, but we were both terrified at the prospect and when the topic came up, we rarely moved beyond, "what if..." This territory was uncharted for me with just one other sibling and definitely for Charles as an only child. That morning I decided to take a pregnancy test (confession: this is not something totally abnormal for me) and suddenly our world went from pancakes to panic. This plus sign on a stick was the beginning of the craziest year of our lives. Someone recently told me that parenting 3 children is a walk on the wild side. It brings you to a place where things aren't easy. Goodies don't come in packages of three's, they come neatly boxed for individuals with two children. You have to constantly think about who is getting what and who is going to cry about it later. Though Henry is not yet vying for the last cookie, this concept mostly centers around time and resources. There is nothing like packing up your children for a weekend away and attempting to coordinate schedules that makes you say, "Man, we really have a lot of kids!". The truth of this reality is that I love it. I love the chaos. I love that we drew the wild card. I'll leave the planning to those who thrive off of symmetry and neatness. In this house, we're living in the odd zone. As we drove home it was nice to have some time to think about how Henry has changed each of us. We could have never anticipated the curve balls thrown at us in the 365 days the followed that positive test, but the lack of predictability makes life pretty fun! Tomorrow Henry will be 4 months old. It seems like he's been part of our lives forever. He takes his role as the third child very seriously. He adds that extra decibel to the loud moments and he thinks that his brother and sister are hysterical. He loves mornings and always wakes up with the greatest smile.
Thank you Henny Penn for carving out quite the year!