After a good deal of prayer, looking for various signs from heaven, and crying out for fleece (and then more fleece because God can’t really be serious about this), I think Tim and I are going to go for the BIG TRY.
For a baby that is. And some poor dog out there is out of a doghouse now because we dissed him.
Basically “trying” means we are having necessary sex vs. the unnecessary sex we normally have. This makes it much more official.
And since we want a boy child who will be a tall and a stellar athlete I will be donning sports apparel and six inch heels for the “trying.” (I’ve found it’s best to be specific with God)
I know some of you are thinking…seriously? Raising four children seems rather excessive these days. (It’s so Duggar)
I know. I know. Trust me…I know. The pitter patter of little paws sounded so appealing.
And let’s be honest here. I’m already overwhelmed. As I write this, I have a huge baby snot stain on my nice work pants and some buttons on my shirt have gone astray. I’m lucky if I pull a shower every other day and my makeup is haphazardly applied at stoplights.
I was so exhausted a few weeks ago I actually ate a nugget of baby poop thinking it was a cheerio. Let’s just say it was an unpleasant surprise.
We have a three bedroom home and it’s pretty darn full. The only room left to put a baby in is the cabinet over the TV that I can’t reach. Or maybe in the closet or the bathroom (oh wait…that’s daddy’s Man Cave).
Then there’s the fact that my husband works non-stop (three nights a week and six days a week) and he goes to seminary on his only day off- which leaves me completely hosed from a help perspective. Of course I do have the older two minions, I mean children.
Crazy right? So I’ve been asking for a sign. And every sign that comes across my path is anti-dog. Remember when Snoopy was trying to hook up with that cute little girl and then he realized he was a dog and the relationship was doomed (maybe because he was a canine and she was human) and everywhere they went there were signs that said “No Dogs Allowed.” Yep –it’s like that.
I tried the throw open the Bible tactic to get a word from God on my Kindle. This method lacks the “wow” factor of dramatically flinging open the scriptures, closing your eyes and dropping a finger down on a verse, but it was still effective. I opened my Kindle, clicked on my Bible download and Psalms came up randomly. I glanced down with intensity and bamm…a verse on how “God knits us together in our mother’s womb.” Shut the front door! Another baby reference. (Or maybe a knitting reference, but God knows I’m not crafty so it has to be about a baby –right?)
Then my husband Tim says he feels like God is saying to him, “Be fruitful and multiply.” Youza! I’m thinking, “Are you sure he didn’t say –be fruitful and multiply our income?”
But my biggest objection is really not the enormous amount of work involved in having another munchkin, it’s the same fear I struggle with everyday –that I won’t be able to love everyone enough, or I’ll feel even more inadequate as a mother than I already do, and oh yeah –that I won’t have time to write or volunteer as a room parent and then there’s all the additional mommy guilt trips.
I guess I have to trust that with four rug-rats and the always lively Tim Keller I will probably have enough material for a full season of SNL and as for the rest, I’ll just have to leave it up to God.
For those of you still not convinced –namely me, I will suggest to you that I do have three great kids and (because of or in spite their mother) they are tremendous little people. They are giving, loving, talented and irreplaceable. (And the world really needs more good people and fewer jackwaggons, dang it!)
So…now that we got that settled, here comes the fun part –making the baby.
(More bun in the oven jokes to tentatively follow pending the “trying” phase)
PS. I was joking about wearing the six-inch heels.
What new, risky and bold decisions are you making in the new year?
