One month ago we hooked up a trailer to our van and spent two days moving our household, half of which had been in storage for a couple of years, into our very first home. Our children are 12, 11, 9, and 7, and we were entirely proud of them for helping with the moving. The’ve always helped, but this was the first time that they really did a decent about labor during the move. My husband took the week off, and in a whirlwind of unpacking and finding a dog on the free day at a shelter, we settled into our new life as first time homeowners. Which, apparently, included a new child.
Breathe, people. I just bought pads from the store this morning. I’m not having another baby.
I don’t know if you’ve reached the stage of parenthood when one of your children is so stressed out that…
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