So, most people who know me, know I LOVE newborns and babies. Not just photographing them. . . but having them. We made the decision our family was complete a couple of years ago and took the necessary precautions to make it a done deal (Do you read me? I’ll give you a hint. . .frozen peas!). I cried a little. . .ok, that’s not true. I cried A LOT. Think Niagra Falls meets a wicked rainstorm. Snot flying, tears streaming. . .well, you get the idea. Every month since then, I convince myself I’m pregnant. “I’m feeling a bit nauseous tonight. . .pregnant!”. “I am SO Hungry!! I must be pregnant!” “Holy CRAP I just gagged while brushing my teeth! I am SO pregnant!” Umm hello Kristin! We’ve had a surgery to fix this problem, you’re not pregnant! I’ve just heard all of the stories about people finding out their expecting after their husband has had the big V and I thought maybe I’d get lucky.

Here’s the thing though. Kids are expensive! Private school is INSANELY expensive and once kids turn past the age of one, they aren’t sweet, little chunky cherubs anymore (and I honestly don’t mind the sleep deprivation when their babies, just don’t talk to me about the sleep deprivation when their almost three years old and still waking me up every night to pee or climb in my bed at 3 in the morning). They often turn into 2 year-old little tantrum freaks who destroy everything in your home or 7 year-old sassy pants who slam their doors while yelling at the top of their lungs how mean you are. Now don’t get the idea I don’t love my kids to death. They are the joy of my life, but I’m good with three. 🙂

I came to this conclusion while watching my 1 year-old niece recently for almost a week. You’ve all seen her plenty of times on my blog, she’s a blonde-haired, blue-eyed cherub. I finally was feeling complete with my “We’ve decided not to have any more babies” campaign after she was here. Not because we didn’t enjoy her or that she wasn’t a ton of fun, because she and I seriously bonded over lullaby’s, and snuggles, and warm baby bottles (and maybe a couple of chocolate chips sneaked topped it for her. . . .sorry Sarah!). But I realized I’m ready to move on into the next phase of life. I’m enjoying my kids becoming more independent and being able to take them out for the day and not worry about nap-time meltdowns. I’m enjoying them letting me sleep in a bit on Saturdays and I love that we can think about taking a vacation in the car longer than 2 hours without me pulling all of my hair out (their dad has already pulled out all of his and while men look distinguished bald, I’m thinking women really don’t). So, I can’t promise that I won’t freak out every time I gag a little while brushing my teeth or when my kids tell me I am looking like I have a baby in my tummy (it’s called stretched out stomach meets too many enchiladas con margaritas), but I think I’m finally feeling at peace that we won’t have a new baby ever again. I might cry every so often that part of life is over and mourn the chubby cherub sweetness, but I am really looking forward to creating some new memories with my kids now that they are getting older.

If you made it this far, bless your heart for listening to me blubber on! Have a wonderful weekend everyone!

xoxo,

Kristin

P.S. Because no post is good without a picture, here’s one of my kids watching Daddy play Wii. Gotta love little C’s hand on daddy’s head.