It went off this weekend.
Set off by yours truly.
I was gonna wait a little bit longer but figured with the entire pueblo now calling me "Gordi" as in "Gordita" (fatty) it was bound to leak to Facebook sooner than later. My ten mile runs have shrunk considerably while my waistline has stretched back nicely into the size twelves that not too long ago were swallowing me whole.
Bun in the oven.
In a fix.
Whichever way you cut it, it's all the same.
And it's a funny thing being pregnant with your fourth. As the dust settled following the big announcement, I couldn't help but notice the evolution of responses.
2006: Oh my God, this is so exciting!! You're gonna be great parents. Congratulations!!
2008: Oh my God, that's great! A sibling for Charlie, wow. Congratulations!
2010: Oh my God. *pause* Wow, you're really gonna have your hands full. *pause* Congratulations though.
2012: Oh. My. God. *pause* Are you crazy? *pause* 4? *pause* But that's almost like a basketball team. *pause* Well, *pause* congratulations.
It's comical yet understandable. Afterall, four children in 6 years is well, a lot. Another baby. No wait, let me rephrase that. Another baby.
It's all kinds of busy.
And yeah, it's a whole lotta crazy.
But I find that as time goes by I'm getting better and better at crazy.
In fact, I think it kind of suits me.