Come November, we will (Lord willing) be adding another Krider to the world!
Are you worried?
I recently announced on my personal Facebook page our news with the following pictures:
And the following disclaimer was made by husband: “This is the first time and the last time I will ever wear this shirt.”
He humored me because he loves me. I think he’s just swell.
I’m 9 1/2 weeks along at this point and with each passing week, I feel slightly better. I have maybe a couple days a week where I feel really rotten and, unfortunately, they are never consistently the same days each week, which really messes with any plans I try to make or tasks I want to accomplish. I will tell you that bending over to pick something up off the floor is the quickest way to make myself turn green, so I try my best not to do that. Therefore, my house sustains the messes that a pint-sized, 4-year-old tornado mixed with a manure-caked, muddy-boot-wearing, smelly dairy farmer make.
I can do laundry. Thank heavens I can do laundry.
Peanut understands that there’s a baby growing in Mommy’s tummy and, honestly, has grown up a little more since finding out that fact. She’s pretty understanding when I’m not feeling well. She doesn’t bounce around on the bed anymore. She snuggles on the couch. She’ll carry my dishes to the sink. And she (begrudgingly, sometimes) will pick things up off the floor and place them where I won’t have to bend over to pick them up. She’s been a great helper. She says, “I’m gonna’ be a big sister and I’m gonna’ teach him everything I know.”
She’s 100% certain she’s getting a brother. We’ll see. Maybe she has the farmer’s gift. I’ve been married to him for almost 10 years now and have not once seen him be wrong about what gender of baby someone is having. He’s feeling like it’s a boy, too.
What better time to be wrong when it’s your own, right? He was right with Peanut, though. I was certain she was a boy and he would look at me with a sheepish grin and, “I think it’s a girl.”
I’m not kidding when I say I had to totally re-bond after the ultrasound. I was in shock for days.
We are extremely excited about the new addition to our family, but also scared to death. So many things are going to change. I worry about Peanut feeling loved. I worry about how the dynamic of our family is going to change. I worry about the stress two adds to the mix. I worry about having both my children up during the middle of the night and not being able to get either one of them back to sleep. Grocery shopping. Spending time with my husband. Will my house be even more trashed than it already is? So many things. The list goes on and on. My imagination is really good at cooking up things for me to feel anxiety about.
I do know this, though. Before Peanut, flexible is never a word I would have used to describe myself. Situationally adaptable? Yes. But, consciously just going with the flow? No. Adaptability, for me, is about having to deal with things that are out of your control. My plans were always in my control (I thought…remember, this was me before Peanut and before dairy farming) and anytime my plans did not go my way…anger. Lots of anger.
That’s not me so much anymore. I’ve learned a lot about flexibility…almost to the point of being noncommittal. You just can’t know when you have cattle and kids what will happen from one day to the next. Being flexible has brought me a good measure of serenity, along with living in a place where you just can’t help but feel it.
Therefore, even though I’m scared of the change that will happen, I still look forward to meeting this new little tyke. I’m just going to have to learn to be even more flexible.
I need input! Either ease my mind or tell it to me straight!
I just wanna know what’s ahead!!!
So I can control it!!!
I need to make contingency plans and run what-if analyses!!!!
I have a sickness! It’s called “I-can’t-NOT-plan!!”
I think I just flat-out lied when I said I had a good measure of serenity.
I have 3. My oldest is 4 1/2, then 3 and finally just shy of 5 months. My house is generally well “lived in”, we eat pizza more nights then before and honestly between kids and cows I don’t sleep much. BUT you won’t want to trade it for the world! Kids adapt well to siblings and you’ll adapt to multiple kids. It can be rough I’m not going to lie, but manageable.
Thanks for easing my mind a little, Jodi. Sounds like you definitely have your hands full. 🙂