Cat's Out

The cat is outta the bag.  It seems that everyone knows that we are expecting our fourth child.  Though, I was very selective in telling everyone at first.  People literally kept coming up to me the week that I found out congratulating me.  When I would look confused and ask how anybody knew, they would just tell me that they had an inkling and it was confirmed.  Now, with this baby, I found out at like four weeks into this mess.  How could people have known for a while if there wasn't a while to know?  And if they had an inkling, why didn't they maybe let me in on it?  And if not telling me that I was pregnant wasn't bad enough, who confirmed it?  I have yet to find out. 

It is kind of fun to let it leak out slowly instead of making a big announcement.  I made sure my family knew, but other than that, it's been hearsay.  Of course Ava Rose announced it to her teachers at school the moment she knew about it.  And if you've ever been around our preschool, you know how quickly that spreads. 

I am also finding that this pregnancy is true to form for me.  My first pregnancy was rough, but manageable.  The second was harder.  I was sick more and so much more tired.  The third was awful.  I was so sick.  And I had no energy.  This one seems to be the toughest to date.  I find it's very hard to fake being fine when I have a very astute six year old and a very sensitive four year old.  Lexie is quick to offer that we don't HAVE to do school today if I'm too sick.  And Ava Rose is very concerned that I am going to "Frow UP".  

I find that everyone is convinced that we need a boy.  I'm not.  I have to admit that I am a bit curious about how a Camp boy would be.  But the idea of raising a boy is just terrifying.  The thought of it is panic attack inducing for me.  I was made to be the mother of girls.  I love pink.  I love frills.  I love hair bows.  I love shoes.  I love little girls.  Now don't get me wrong, I've had a taste of a little boy.  Trey, my nephew is over everyday while Emma works.  He's fantastic.  But I am at a complete loss at some the things he does.  He is ALL boy.  I don't have tomboys.  I don't even have girls.  I have princesses.  They want all the right accessories, they want to wear a tiara whenever possible.  They count down to ballet lessons.  They love a dress.  And shoe shopping is one of their favorite activities.  And, I also want Adelaide to have what Lexie and Ava Rose have.  They are best friends.  What better thing to have your best friend be your sister?  I watch my two younger sisters and I want that for all of my girls.  As the oldest of the three Bickford girls, I know how having three girls can be difficult.  I know that someone will be left out.  I know that there will be more tears.  I will adjust if I have a boy.  I will wrap my mind around it and dive in with both feet.  I would love him and he would be the sweetest little boy ever.  But I'm just saying.  I would love to be the mother of four girls.

What about my husband?  You would have to see him with our girls.  He was made to be a daddy to girls.  He has no problem fixing hair and matching the hairbow to the outfit.  He knows how to deal with swing of emotions that are continuous with three little girls in the house.  He's as curious as I am about what a boy would be like, but that is as far as it goes. 

We are both excited about having a fourth baby.  The whole even number is a good thing.  And we are just thrilled that God would bless us in this way.

Babies and Butt Paste

Ava Rose and Lexie went to bed last night and as usual, I could hear them talking instead of going to sleep.  They weren't bothering Ladie so I didn't say anything.  In fact they fell asleep faster than normal.  Wahoo!  What an awesome night.  Bobby came home and they were already asleep.  Such an unusual thing.  But I was not about to disrupt a quiet evening and the possibility of an early night for Mommy. 

At ten o'clock every night, the "potty alarm" on Bobby's phone goes off.  He gets Ava up and takes her potty so that we can hopefully avoid a bed wetting accident.  He went in to get her and come back out fuming.  I was so confused because my husband is not one to lose his temper easily.  "Did she have an accident already?" I asked.  I was really just grasping at something, anything that would cause this reaction in him.  "I'm going to go wake up our children now.  They have to clean butt paste off the bed."  What???  Apparently, my creative children decided to paint their bed with yes, butt paste.  How in the world do they come up with this?  No, not the little tube that yo stick in the diaper bag or the big tube that's in the living room.  They used the monster tub of butt paste.  It was practically full and now it's empty.  Yes, they emptied out the tub of butt paste that used properly, takes a good year to go through.  It took them one night.

Everything in their room was covered.  And though, Bobby did get them up and they cleaned the majority up last night, I think we will be finding it for the next 6 years.  Their shoes, sheets, clothes, bodies, bed, walls and hair were covered!  I sent Ava Rose to school this morning reeking of the distinct smell.  Her teachers probably think that we just don't bathe them.  But I do.  They had a bath last night before this disaster.

The worst part is, this is not Ava Rose's first run at this kind of thing.  She once smeared Vaseline all over herself and MY bedroom.  She was two and it took weeks to get it out of her hair!  Even with the special shampoo that Aunt Annie got us.  Hopefully this will not be a repeat of that mess.  OH.  Well, at least they were writing in the smeared mess.  Can I count that a school?