Staring at an overturned laundry basket as I breathe deeply and consider what....to....write...
Thinking of my little one seated on it so sweetly waiting for me to hurry up and take her to the beach this morning.
Am I ready for another even littler one? Will I miss many of her very special moments if I have a newborn taking over my life again?
I see other moms with more than one child under the age of four, and many of them make it seem totally natural-they seem to embrace the ensuing whirlwind of personalities, needs, and laughter (and other expressions of the not so happy type). I also remember being the second child...and then the middle child. Often happy to be left alone, sometimes made to feel as an afterthought (by my very loving but very busy mama).
I also think about all of the moments of fear and doubt seated in the fact that I had never had a child before during Ever's first year of life...how will that play out if I've done it already? Maybe it won't be so hard...but, then factor in that there are two small (and one big brother here with us part time) and maybe it will be.
I suppose I still have time to think on it. I do think on this-whatever juncture we have found ourselves at during Ever's last 2+ years, I have used equal measures of planning and spontaneity tempered with pure instinct (and a good deal of divine intervention). I appreciate advice (about 30% of the time), but ultimately I am her mama and I do know best without a doubt.
I look to that when I wonder what to do with another child. I will love, I will listen (God does need us to meet halfway), and my heart will grow even bigger than I could ever expect.
(And that laundry basket is going to be used even more than it already is.)
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