There is very little reason for me to be tired. Aside form waking up every 20 minutes feeling like it was a year of sleep and asking my oldest if she needed to go potty, I’ve slept better than I have in a long time.
Having a nearly constantly pregnant wife over the past four and a half years is a little like boiling water. Heat keeps going in but the temperature stays the same. Now that we’re done pumping heat into this mess I figure we can cool things off and move onto to the next stage: not killing and eating our young for the next eighteen years. As clumsy or as inexplicable that metaphor is to you, I still get to go to stage two of family growth.
Lots of folks–nurses mostly–over the last 24 hours asked if we were shooting for a boy. No, we weren’t. We were just having kids and they all turned out to be girls. There’s alot of groaning about me having my hands full over the course of stage two, but frankly I don’t know what the hell everyone is worked up about. Raising four people is the harder part not that they are four girls. As for the 21st century version of a dowry–paying for a wedding–I seriously doubt that any of these four is going to look Daddy in the eye and demand cash for that. Smitten, yes; in love, sure; made of money, no.
And I just don’t see their social education going that route anyhow. Entourage of babies, Barbies, and dress up clothes that may argue to the contrary.