I Am Doing It Again

I try not to, truly I do, but once again I am patrolling the lists of waiting children, mentally plugging them into our family.

I am gingerly saying things to my husband like "how old a child do you think we could take?" and "I bet adding a fourth wouldn't be that much more expensive."

I am losing myself in all those pairs of brown eyes, most looking reproachfully at the camera.

Now, I am not stupid. I know darn good and well that a fourth child would blow our minds three ways from Sunday. I have vivid memories of how the third child did that; still does that, almost daily. But but but...

My eminently practical husband says things like, "you have to have an established income (from my shaky flow of freelance work, which is unpredictable at best), or I have to get a raise." This is actually a possibility, if he gets the promotion he applied for. But it's still only a 50-50 chance and he is pessimistic about it. He is, in fact, pessimistic about most things having to do with the kids and/or money. In fact, many of our arguments end with him saying something like "we're all going to die, homeless and alone" or whatever.

This time, though, it almost feels like we might be able to pull it off. If the money shows up. If the money doesn't just show up but decides to stay for a while. If no major disasters occur with the kids we already have. If...if...if.

Waiting for the hand of God in this one...that's the biggest if of all.