My sister-in-law and brother-in-law announced that they are expecting a fourth child in the fall. Well, actually, they didn't announce it. Their oldest child, in a flurry of 7-year old indignation, announced it.
We were all a bit surprised. They have 3 kids, 7, 6, and 2. Two girls and a boy, a dog, and a boat. No one thought they'd have anymore. They're 37, both working as lawyers, SIL part-time and BIL fulltime. Their family seemed complete. And yet. Here they are, awaiting the birth of their fourth child.
Four kids. Now, I know there are people out there who think that's no big deal. Lots of people have four kids. But it still amazes me.
At the boys' school, there are lots of large families. As a matter of fact, I would say we are a part of the exception and not the rule with 'only' our two boys. I have, every once in a while, thought about more kids. But not three, because middle kids always get the shaft. And not four because, jeez, I'd be breastfeeding for, like, EVER. So that leaves two as the only reasonable option. And besides, I'm occasionally a screaming freak with two. What would I be like with four?
But these moms with many seem to be of a totally different breed. A calmer breed. Feathers unruffleable breed.
I admire smooth feathers.