To V or not to V...that is the question.

During my pregnancy with Baby R, I told Mr. B that he needed to get fixed. I feel as though my body has been through enough with 4 kids and that it is now his turn. At first he was dead set against it, but now that we are full speed with 4 kids he has realized that the time has come to stop the madness. I have been on strike for the last few months because the idea of having another child just blows my mind right now. Now don't get me wrong, I always imagined myself with a lot of kids, but the reality of it is incredibly incredible. If it was not for the enormous amount of help Senora X provides, I would have already lost it. Well, I still do lose it, especially with my 2 year old who has become beyond defiant and has no fear of my spatula. Mr. B is becoming more and more willing to discuss the idea and next week we have a consultation for the big V. He said he will go, but he still hasn't commit ed to the actual procedure. Hmmm, what can I do to persuade him?

The breast feeding shuffle

I feel like I have been nursing for almost 6 years straight...oh wait, I have been. My Baby R is a nursing machine and at almost 10 months, I see no end in sight. Now that I am back to work full time, my life has been a strategic game of timing. Everything revolves around Baby R and his need for "chita". I spend a lot of time driving back and forth from work to home, and making sure that my appointments with my clients allow enough break in between to have a date with my little guy. He still gets up 2 to 3 times a night to eat, and with the madness of the day to day (not to mention the interrupted sleep), I am struggling on what to do. Knowing that he is most likely my last child, I do not want the experience of nursing to end. Is there anything wrong with a nursing 5 year old? On the other hand I could really use a long nap, escape for the weekend with Benny, and drink myself silly....all which are impossible at this point. We have good days and bad days with nursing. The good days are jam packed with intense love while he is eating and the bad days involve biting that brings tears to my eyes. Oh, I don't know. What I do know is that if it were up to my boobs, they would holler.....enough already!

Returning to Reality...YUCK!

Our final days in the D.R. were spent packing and gulping down as much Presidente (the local beer) as possible. On the final day, we were picked up real early by the family that we spent our first few nights with. We wanted to make sure that we left plenty of time so that we did not have to rush. So 4 hours before our flight they drove us to the airport. From the moment we walked into the airport we were met with problems. 2 of the 5 bags were over the weight limit. It was going to be several hundred dollars to send them. We were directed to a store to purchase 2 new bags. While my 3 girls ran wild in the airport, Senora X and I transferred items around to balance them all out. It took quite some time as each time we had to wait in line to weigh it again to see if we had it right. After over an hour burned on just fixing our bags we were finally able to check in. On we went to security, our next problem. Trying to get all 4 kids through security is pretty difficult as shoes come off and we try to keep everyone together in the long line. Right after security you have to pay a "departure" fee. What?? No one told me you had to pay to leave the country. That would have been all fine and dandy, except that as we were driving off from our condo, I gave the rest of my pesos to the maintenance folks who helped us so much during our stay. I gave every last peso away and now I needed over 4,000 pesos to get my family out. By this point Senora X is fading fast after staying up late the night before, not eating breakfast (she's diabetic) and all the stress of trying to get our luggage right and listening to crying kids. As I am having her translate to the lady at the counter that I do not have any money, I notice her start shaking and looking like she is going to pass out. I tell her we need to sit down and regroup and figure out what to do. Thankfully, the lady was very nice and allowed us to sit in her little area. She fetched some juice for Senora X. Once Senora X stopped shaking, the lady escorted me to an ATM machine to withdrawl the cash. I left everyone else at the pay station to avoid ALL of us having to go through security again. She walked me to the other side of the airport and I attempted to get cash, except there was one really big problem. The card that I took out of my wallet was telling me "NSF", I tried another one....same thing. OMG, how am I supposed to get out of this country if I have no money? I remembered that I had one more card in one of my carry on bags. The poor lady had to walk me back through security to her station to get the other card, then all the way back to the ATM. Finally I was able to get what I needed and we could move on. Although the shaking had stopped for Senora X, she was still very sick and was not able to help me the way she usually does which left me alone to manage the kids and the carry ons. By the time we made it to our gate, we had less than 10 minutes to board. Really? We got there 4 hours early and we only had 10 minutes to board? We did not even have time to eat, which lead to the melt down once we boarded the plane. To make a very long story about our plane ride home short, I will just say it was just about one of the worst experiences of my life. The kids struggled with the long trip, Senora X was out of commission on the verge of vomiting just about the entire time, 2 of the 4 had bowel movements that needed to be addressed and we were all tired. When the plane landed, I cried very hard that the nightmare was over. It will be a very, very long time for the memories of that trip home to fade and an even longer time before I attempt to travel with my kiddos by air. Mr. B was there to pick us up and get us home. There is nothing greater than being home!