Life Keeps Marching On

My fax is coming in right now, and a Ben 10 cartoon is blasting on the TV behind me. Missy is still sleeping when she should be up, and poor Tiger is battling a sore throat. My coffee is yummy, and I wore a dress today because I feel festive (plus I'm out of detergent, 'mmmm kay?) and excited. Excited why?
Mr. R spoke with the reversal doctor last night for 30 on the phone.
I know, I know. Just getting Mr. R to the point of even talking about it seriously was huge. He is not scared of the surgery itself, but the economy scares him. He's concerned about fuel, about food, about how small our house already feels. All valid concerns, true.
Then I reminded him that when Bucket was born, we were living in a two bedroom duplex, making less than $23,000 for a family of five, and we didn't get any public assistance. I had all three kids crammed into one bedroom, and that bedroom was facing a railroad track. The rent was $500 and it about killed us to come up with that money every month. I only ate two meals a day so we could afford diapers. With three kids, we managed on about $50 a week in groceries, not counting diapers. No formula either, as I breastfed the boys exclusively. I used to babysit other people's kids for ten bucks a day just to have a bit of extra cash to buy fun stuff like crayons, coloring books, and mountains of sippy cups. To think of how poor we were, and how well off we are now, is like night and day. I hadn't forgotten, but pushed it to the back of my mind as an unpleasant memory. I would not be happy if that happened to us again, admittedly. Yet, it was quite the experience. We didn't even have a car. If I went food shopping, I had to walk to the store with my double stroller, and only buy enough groceries to fit in one of the seats of the stroller. Then, Tiger would sit in the stroller on the way home, Missy would walk next to me, and Bucket would be in my baby carrier. To this day, I have no idea how I managed it. Necessity, I suppose.

Back to the original story. Mr. R spoke with the reversal doctor. Mr. R immediately liked him. The doctor didn't guarantee it would work since it has been almost 11 years since the vasectomy. He said he would do his best. I like that in a doctor. Since I work in a hospital, I talk with a lot of arrogant people, but this man didn't seem like that at all. Today, my job is to call the office and schedule the procedure. We are aiming between end of June to early August. This is because my sweet sister Kelly is going to be watching the kids for us. Here's the kicker...she doesn't know we're going for a reversal. We are not telling my family. She thinks she's watching the kids for our anniversary so we can have a romantic outing. It's partially true...it will be nice to get away for a few days, just me and Mr. R. However, poor Mr. R is going to have an ice pack on his healing jewels while I sit in a hotel room in Oklahoma doing homework on a laptop! Hahahahaha!

My family is not going to be supportive at all. I don't understand the "anti-children" mentality of my family, especially considering my grandparents had seven children. My mom is the third of seven kids. You would think there would be a ton of grandchildren, but there is really not. My Aunt Fran had one child, a boy named Kevin who is 39 now. He never married, never had children. My Aunt Nancy had two girls. Renee passed away in 1995 due to breast cancer, and my cousin April is not married, has no children, and has no intention of doing so. Then my mom had me and my sister Kelly. I'm married with three kids, but my sister has no children and doesn't intend to have any. My Uncle Danny had one son, Brandon. Brandon is married with one child, and another on the way. My Uncle Lance married a much older woman (she's very sweet) but they only managed to have one son, who is not much older than my Missy. Then my Uncle Keith had two sons, who are the same age as my kids. My Aunt Jina is married and has no children, and since she just had a hysterectomy, there obviously won't be any kids. So our family tree is dwindling, down down down. It sort of makes me sad, the small family. I like big families. :)

Due to Bucket's "disability" my own parents have made comments such as "Aren't you glad he's your last one" and "He would probably hurt a baby" or something like that. He's not a monster, he's a little boy. He's done very well when I've babysat Baby A. Trust me, I've been paying attention to how he reacts to her crying. He doesn't like it (heck, who does!) but he doesn't freak out. He just goes into his room. He's controlling his emotions just fine. I'm quite proud of him.

This is not to say there won't be roadblocks. If and when I have another baby, I should have three children well into teenager-hood. It's going to be interesting, that is for certain! I'm sure Missy will be enamored, and the boys won't care until all the girls in the neighborhood show up to play with the baby. Then all of a sudden my boys will want to be the doting older brother to impress all the teenage girls!