Baby Boy was going strong in his longest sleep stretch yet when the earthquake started rattling our house--we wouldn't want him to know the pleasure of a full night's sleep, after all. Dad and I are major overreactors to perceived safety threats, especially when fallen nature is involved, so we rushed madly through the bedrooms, gathering up babies. We got everybody outside in pretty good time while all the sane people in town dreamed they were in hammocks gently swayed by tropical breezes. 5-yr-old thought it was a wonderful adventure, 3-yr-old was enraged at having been dragged from bed, almost-2-yr-old was utterly confused, baby was glad somebody remembered it was snack time and woke him up for it.
It was kind of a reassuring drill. The more babies we add, the more terrifying my worst nightmares get. I feel like the Rockbiter. I can only carry so many babies out of a burning house at one time. If our oldest were the only one, she'd be getting held through these things instead of being asked to hold her little brother's hand.
Letting God pick your family size means trusting him for a lot more than getting all the groceries paid for. Trusting that everyone is in his hands becomes a very literal exercise as soon as you have more than two small children.