Our Unexpected Third Child

Most days, I enjoy writing these posts. Some days I struggle to find a topic or even the right words—heck, some days finding mediocre words can be tough! (Ok brain, stay on track.) Most days, I’m happy to see a few visits. But other times, it feels like I’m just shouting into the void.

Hello? Is anybody out there?

Bueller?
Bueller?
Bueller?

Hopefully someone gets that reference! Hard to believe that movie came out 39 years ago—crazy, right?

Anyway, I’ve been a mom of two kids for almost 22 years. They’re pretty fantastic kids—well, adult-aged kids now. It’s been a wild ride, but they’re grown.

And I’m 50.

When I meet people my age with small kids, I think, “Ugh, kill me now!” I’m just too tired to chase toddlers.

So for 22 years, I was done. Two kids was the perfect number. We never thought we’d have more.

Until last week.

We got the news. We’re adding a third child to our family.

SERIOUSLY??

At my age? Ugh.

After the first of the year, we’ll welcome child #3. It’s a boy! His name is Andrew.

Thankfully, Andrew is already potty trained. And he can feed himself. In fact, Andrew is an adult—and soon, officially, our middle child.

This weekend, we took all three kids plus my son-in-law out to dinner. It was fun—amazing, actually—to see them all getting along. It’s like Andrew has always been part of our family. He just fits. He’s the kid I didn’t know we needed. And the best part? No midnight feedings or dirty diapers.