Four is the Magic Number

My little Freddie-buddy is at an age that is just so much fun. He loves to play and chat with me, he snuggles like a boss, and I'm his favorite persona in town. Most of my mornings are made up of games and snacks, mostly with him and Maggie. It's been tons of fun this summer, just hanging out and discovering the world with him.

One day when I was rolling around on the floor with him, I was suddenly overcome with guilt. I was thinking to myself, 'I never had this much fun playing with the other three when they were toddlers. They must be completely convinced that I love him the most. I'm a horrible mother and my big kids are going to grow up to be serial dog torturers!'

So cute I give my mother complexes!

I wallowed around in my self-flagellating state for a while, but then I had an epiphany! The main reason I never rolled around on the floor having tons-o-fun with Sam, Lucy and Maggie when they were toddlers was because I was pregnant with Lucy, Maggie and Fred respectively. And while I generally didn't mind being pregnant, it did put limitations on my patience, and my ability to get up off the floor all by myself. And, let's face it, they probably didn't want to play with me on the days when I had puke breath.

So right then and there I stopped feeling guilty (mostly) and decided that we're done having kids. FINISHED! I want to be able to continue to enjoy Fred's teeny years without feeling the strain of my round ligaments.

Maybe I can even try and have some fun with the other three from time to time. You know, so they don't figure out that Fred is my favorite!