That Third Kid...

Remember how I said I was definitely finding peace with only having two kids?

http://www.hagusandlightbulbs.blogspot.com/2015/12/how-im-finding-peace-with-only-two.html

Anyway, I keep going round and round on the third baby thing. Mainly, I think, because a lot of my friends on Facebook are either HAVING babies or just HAD a baby and a ton of newborn pictures makes my biological clock start dinging again. This is just me - to get my husband on board I'd have to win the lottery or write a bestseller so we could hire a nanny or a maid (or a grandmother - can you do that? Hire a loving grandmother to come over and take the kids to the park and be interfering by cleaning your house)?

Last night, my husband and I were stupid enough to stay up late watching a new series (shout out to Penny Dreadful, because despite the vampire-centric theme, I love anything from literature and history, even if it IS sensational). Clearly, we should know better. We're not newbies, after all. But we did - we stayed up until midnight. I can hear all of you parents tsk-tsk-ing us and shaking your head. "How stupid can you be? Don't you know that you are tempting fate?!" they are screaming at me, much like the audience of a horror movie is screaming "Don't go in there, you idiot! You clearly deserve to die; you're so stupid, that is OBVIOUSLY the house of a deranged serial killer!"

We got 2 hours of sleep and then our oldest woke up and decided she had slept enough. My husband dealt with it and snuggled into bed with her to make her feel better (we assume it was a bad dream and not her trying to drive us into an insane asylum - just makes us feel better as parents). At 4 am, she peed the bed, and I got woken up by a treatise on how he needed to take a shower because he was covered in pee (only it was a far more colorful rant). So I got up, got her snuggled up with me on the couch and sent him back to bed. She fell right back to sleep and I managed 45 minutes before the toddler-who-won't-stop-nursing woke up. I sneaked up, nursed him, stuck him back in the crib and stuck his monitor in with my husband for the fun of dealing with the nurser, and went back downstairs to spend a few more hours trying to sleep and get comfortable on the floor next to the couch (there was no way in HELL I was going to chance waking her up to get back on the couch - I'm stupid, not suicidal). She was quite happy to keep sleeping until 7:30, which is late for her. But then, it had been a busy night.

The boys slept until nearly 9 and then I practically kicked them all out of the house so I could write a blog post about it.

A new baby would kill us. This is a rare occurrence nowadays and quite frankly, we like the sleep. Sure, the toddler won't stop nursing and is almost two but I'm cutting him off any day now and he doesn't wake up all the time anyway. And she hasn't had an accident at night for weeks - clearly, having dad in the bed was just too good an opportunity to pass up. All dads have to have a 'I got peed on in my sleep' story for later on, when the kid is in college and needs to be humbled.

So yeah. No more babies. Commence laughing now.