And, for the record, it was indeed the completely insane blonde woman of the house (uh, me) who decided to skip birth control and let Mother Nature take its course. I won't flog myself, or listen to Vogon Poetry. (After marrying a writer, and attending lots of poetry and fiction readings, the Vogon poetry took on new meaning for me. I've heard a couple dreadful poetry readings, but also some very, very good ones)
(And to go completely off, I just realized it's 9:30 at night, dark out, but I can hear someone's lawn mower. I guess that's one way to beat the heat. How bizarre)
So, of course, I love my little ones more than anything. This week, for some reason, was very very hard on me though. I can't really tell you exactly why - it's all just a big blur for some reason. I know there wasn't much sleeping involved, and I know that one night when Guthrie had been awake for 2 HOURS already and it was about 4 a.m., and he'd succeeded in waking up Turner (but not Daddy), I lost my temper with him and wasn't exactly the best AP positive parenting mama around. Why exactly I thought yelling at a child would make him go to sleep I don't know. Yes, I had one of my worst parenting moments then.
The toys everywhere, the diapers, the endless repetitions of Richard Scarry stories, the constant preparing of snacks and having to pull down my shirt to feed the little one, the messes - it all got to me. Why this week? I don't know, it really wasn't any different. I was really feeling like we'd been insane - genuinely diagnosably insane - to have two kids so close together, even though it's how we planned it.
I'm feeling much better now. Eric let me take a nap this afternoon, and made cookies, to
I am much more certain now, though, that this IUD is staying in for the full five years, and then I'll only think of more babies if Mary Poppins can live in the garage.