I have had a baby, Sonata, fourth child four and under, until yesterday.
I have ushered a four year old into the world of FIVE!  He has his own little guitar from us and is positively thrilled.  Now I’m only a mother of four 5 years of age and under.  Why that sounds more sane than the other, I don’t know.  It’s still pretty unbelievable.
I have milked a cow several times – received one gallon.  She gives us this each morning except when it is rainy, a rooster flaps next to her, four kittens are roughhousing under her feet and the thunder and calves bawling is to loud: then she’s a pain and I only get a quarter gallon.
I have wondered if I was going to survive a new baby, reminded myself of Psalm 127?, cried on my husband’s shoulder, kept my mother up until 11pm, 12am, and then 1am for several successive weeks before the baby finally decided (a few days ago) that 10pm is a better bedtime.  Which it is.  For all of us.  Despite the earlier bedtime, she still sleeps till 6:30 most mornings.  Happy time.
I have watched a shed be constructed in our yard.  It will hold chickens and… well.. probably other things.
Now for a brief advertisement.  My husband is amazing.  He held the kids to a semblance of a chore routine all the while I was in the hospital, continuously shut me down when I tried to do what I shouldn’t and catered to me extensively.  I can’t explain to you how special that makes you feel when you aren’t busy having a feminist attitude.  (I’ve dealt with it both ways, which is why I know.)  He’s cleaned toilets, held the fussing baby, put kids to bed and done dishes.  He took his birthday boy to Papio fun park for the day and returned him for supper and cake.  I’m blessed. 
That’s what has happened in the past two months.  We’re coming into easy street… at least until teething starts.
More to remind myself of this endearing fact later than to inform anyone else, but Sonata was a fraidy cat baby.  Every touch or noise caused her to scream at first.  Her daddy would get her settled down in recovery and a beep would sound a door would close (not slam, just close) a nurse would speak and she would scream.  She hollored when you picked her up and hollored when you moved her.  At the time, I was worried about how long it would last, but now looking back, it was a pretty endearing trait.  She settles down when she knows what to expect.  Today we took a large and frightening step of taking her out to a restaurant with Matt’s parents.  She was wonderful, despite (or perhaps because of) her vaccines that she received this morning.  She smiles at us readily, but doesn’t like held or cuddled (I think that’s still too much unpredictable movement for her.  She likes laying on the floor or sitting in her swing and sleeping in her laundry basket (there’s no point in purchasing an expensive tool to do what something you already have can do.) She is going to need to move to her crib in the children’s room shortly, not only because we want our room to go back to a kid-free zone, but also because she’s 22 inches long and is going to run out of stretching room eventually.
That’s what’s happening at this time.
Despite many misgivings in the first month and a half, I am content.
Praise God.