This can not be happening. We already HAVE two kids.
“Do you see what I see?” my OB said, turning the ultrasound screen to give me a better view.
“I see two,” I said, and then I burst into tears.
Not the happy kind.
“We don’t have room for two more children, we’re going to have to buy a fucking minivan, I was just getting my life back together, no fucking way can this be happening, we absolutely can not fucking do this and YOU — YOU” — I twisted around towards my husband, Mr. Big (Ideas), “this is all YOUR fault, you are going to go get that fucking vasectomy NOW!”
Cut to fifteen minutes later. I’m still weeping my eyes out while they’re drawing my blood. All the techs in the office are swarming around me, trying to convince me four kids will be fun.
Uh-huh. Sure they will be.
Except when those twins arrive, I’ll have four kids under four.
There is nothing anyone on the planet can say that will possibly make this seem okay.
“You know, if we’re going to do this, we’re going to have to get seriously organized,” Mr. Big (Ideas) says. “I mean, we’re going to have take all your OCD checklist shit for real.”
Reader, right then and there, I remembered the why I’d married him. Seriously: this was one of the most romantic things I think he’s ever said.
Also, it spawned this blog.
Welcome to Checklist Mommy, where the world is neat, and organized, and all problems can be tackled with the help of a handy checklist and neatly labeled plastic containers. Check back often for:
- Downloadable checklists
- Product reviews
- Parenting book and lecture reviews and recommendations
- More about our family’s attempts to “take my OCD checklist shit for real.”