Oh, my! What an overwhelmingly wonderful response to our announcement! Thank you for your encouragement and excitement for us. It made my day.
Being pregnant at 34 is a whole lot different than being pregnant at 21. Some of the aspects are so. much. better! For instance, if I am too sick to make lunch, there are four children in the house that can make varying levels of said meal. (Of course, even our smallest can break into a box of crackers, if necessary.) If someone is crying, one of her siblings can (and does) comfort her. My children have always been careful of me when I'm sick, but now they can actually nurse me with some degree of competence. I have had several foot rubs and hair brushings, they pick shows they know I would like to watch, and refreshments are fetched accurately and without delay. They have even told me, "Mom, you need to go take a nap. We'll take care of things up here." My goodness. Who wouldn't want another child when you have so far produced a crop like this?
With all of the good, there is bound to be some bad. For instance, I am sick, my baby bump is far too pronounced (remember with the first baby how it took MONTHS to show?), and I'm already feeling creaky. Is it the passage of the twelve years or is it the consequence of bearing and birthing five children already? Or both?
My dear mother sent me a First Trimester Care Package. There was a rather large warning on the box that everything in the box was for the MotherShip and though she could share, it was not required. Obviously, I shared--it is part of being the mom. It was packed with Ginger Snaps, Peppermint Tea, soda crackers and other time honored morning sickness remedies. There were a few items of maternity clothes--you know how worn out maternity clothes get. There was tapioca pudding which is what my mom always made for me as a child when I was home sick from school. Definite comfort food. She also packed in some traditional kids card games to keep them busy.
Old Maid, Go Fish and Crazy 8's went well. Even the youngest could play and it kept them busy for quite some time. It was a lovely alternative entertainment for the morning. Then they began the age-old game of Memory.
As a home schooling mother, I am always concerned with filling potential holes in my students' education. Yesterday, I realized that one of my children was completely devoid of the skills necessary to find the matches. This child was smoked by all of the others. It became the home work for the morning. This child will play Memory a few more times today. If I have a child that leaves my home without the ability to play a competitive version of Memory, then I have failed indeed.
Even if they can make a meal on their own, change a diaper and find square roots.