October 28th, 2013 brought with it a brisk evening. We had three kids in tow for Nut Night, the ‘fall fun’ event our church was hosting. The name truly said it all. Eighty bazillion kids dragging their parents from ride to game to ride to food to game to ride to food. Cotton candy, popcorn, caramel apples galore. Shrieking kiddos and long lines for a mini roller coaster. It was nuts.

Truthfully, I am a bit surprised I can recall any details of the event because I was battling a virus. I had been feeling lousy for days and it was prime time for every germ from daycare, public school and the doctors’ offices I visit to land ferociously in our home. I was sick. Hungry. Tired. Battling germ-induced heartburn. This was not ordinary heartburn but rather an insane case of unrelenting indigestion. No matter what I ate, I had a fierce ball of acid churning and rising from my stomach. I was starving, feeling like I was one foot away from the grave of malnourishment but terrified to eat the chili provided in the food tent for fear of catching my insides on fire. Literal, flames bursting forth from my throat fire.

We had our hands full. Six year old, four year old, one year old. I remember thinking it was difficult to satisfy everyone’s needs. Getting each kid to their desired ride, lined up for their requested game or filling up whatever snack cup awaited seemed more challenging than it should have been. When we learned of our third child’s impending arrival a couple years before, every parent we knew warned us that moving from two to three kids would move us from Man to Man Coverage to Zone Defense. I am not a terribly athletic person but their facial expression when sharing this information seemed to imply this news was negative.

Negatively negative.

However, our third child had been a sweet little pea, sliding into our family with such ease that we hadn’t faced much challenge since her arrival. However, I remember that evening as a defining moment in our new zone defense and began to understand the grim faces from the advice givers. Our old strategy was failing.

These events can be such fun. (Lie.) Partly because kids ranging in age from 23 months to six years are terribly patient and totally logical when primed with flashing lights and buckets of Pixie Stix. (More lies.) These events are primarily fun because you see other parents existing at the same level of sticky cotton-candy handed misery and are reminded you’re not alone. (Truth.) Another source of enjoyment existed because the kids were having great fun. In ten second increments. Before they lost interest and dragged you to the next source of sensory overload and sugar. (More truth.)

I, perhaps being the less patient parent, was ready to call it a night. Because I was fighting a virus, after all. Matt, being perhaps a bit more logical, suggested I might not actually be sick. This thought angered me because aside from being the less than patient parent I am also the more bull-headed spouse and likely to get irritated by a comment that might prove I am not entirely as right as I thought I once was.

Perhaps.

Matt suggested that viruses don’t normally leave you simply with heartburn. He suggested I take a pregnancy test.

The absolute nerve.

I was so annoyed by the suggestion that I called him on his ridiculousness, asked him to drive me to the store right then and there and tore the box open as we unloaded our sticky children in our garage. Matt, perhaps the more rational adult, suggested I wait to take the test after the kids were asleep. I, being right and oh so confident in my rightness, was irritated by his dumb suggestion that I was GROWING ANOTHER HUMAN and not fully aware this was occurring IN. MY. OWN. BODY. and swiftly told him no way!

I marched, ever so dramatically, towards the restroom.

The next few minutes from Matt’s perspective go something like this:

Emily returns from bathroom ashen. Face and ivory sweater now matching in color. Matt chuckles thinking Emily is pulling a practical joke and only begins to realize her seriousness when she slides down against the wall of the kitchen and cannot speak. Emily, perhaps the chattier of the couple, cannot form a thought or sentence. Emily is typically not without words. Reality begins to hit. 

I will now take back the story from here:

I sat in stunned silence against our kitchen wall, wondering how on earth I’d manage four kid Zone Defense when I couldn’t master it with three offspring. I wondered if Matt could raise three small children if I headed to Mexico. I did some quick math and figured I would have a solid eight months on the beach before I’d have to parent again. Even then, newborns aren’t so bad so I’d have a few more months to figure out my next step. Yes, Mexico is the answer!

Dang it.

The thought of tacos was making my esophagus burn. Stupid heartburn. Heartburn???? Ahhhh, yes. It appears my heartburn will be arriving in early summer.

And so he did.

You have likely been introduced to Thaddeus, our bookend boy, our beloved fourth child who ironically began as heartburn and continues to extol his stomach churning virtues on a daily basis. Fortunately bringing laughs in intensity equal to those early days of indigestion. Appropriate that we would learn of his impending arrival on Nut Night as every night has been nutty since. Ironic that I learned of his existence on the day I began to realize I was outwitted and outmatched with the first three kids in our possession. He was as much of a surprise as a child born to two fairly educated, ninth grade sex-ed graduates can be. He is a delight and a handful, balancing out our general crazy so well. He has truly made us parents, causing us to challenge our previously held convictions on just about everything. All my former I will nevers! have now shifted to Never say nevers. Turns out I’m not so great at Zone Coverage and each day brings a new playbook entirely. That fierce heartburn was likely a training exercise for the main event of parenting this strong-willed little dynamo. Turns out that sometimes life’s nuttiest surprises can wind up being the sweetest.

I would love to hear your own ‘SURPRISE!’ stories or hear about the moment you realized you were outmanned! When did your own Nut Night begin? I can’t wait to read your comments!