It occurred to me this weekend that I have crossed the threshold.
I technically have enough children to blog at www.largerfamilies.blogpot.com
I have four children now.
People have one accidentally, even two accidentally, or two because that is what you are supposed to do once you've been married X number of years (The magic number here is 2 for one 4 for two). People who really love kids may have three. I have four.
Four people are under my responsibility.
When you have four children you are no longer allowed to complain about the difficulties of parenting. You are supposed to know what you are getting yourself into by the time you reach four. And I did. Boy did I. I spent the last nine months mumbling aloud to myself "Four. Four people. Another person."
It isn't even that I want to complain about my kids. I don't set out to do so. But some days I'VE HAD IT! AND I NEED TO TELL SOMEONE! VERY LOUDLY!
Nope, no more. I am no longer allowed to the luxury of "real mom," I have crossed into saint.
Can't you see my halo? CAN'T YOU SEE MY HALO?
I ENJOY WAKING UP ALL HOURS OF THE NIGHT TO FEED THIS FOURTH PERSON!
AND I CAN'T WAIT TO GET UP IN THE MORNING TO BREAK UP FIGHTS!
AND I DIDN'T WANT A SHOWER TODAY ANYWAY, THANK YOU VERY MUCH.
POOPY DIAPERS? LOVE TO CHANGE THEM!
NO I DON'T NEED ANY HELP! IT IS ALL UNDER CONTROL!
SURE, I DID HAVE A BABY ONLY TWO WEEKS AGO, BUT I'D LOVE TO TAKE THIS NAP TIME AND CLEAN THE GARAGE!
LAUNDRY? YOU'RE KIDDING, RIGHT? I ONLY HAVE SEVEN LOADS TO DO TODAY!
(I am quite mentally stable this AM, thanks for your worries. I'm just demonstrating my cracking point because when it gets really bad, I won't.)