I read with interest a recent Associated Press story about the birth rate dropping. The recession is getting at least some of the blame.

Apparently, that doesn’t apply to our family. That’s right: In November, our cozy little family of three (five if you include the dog and the cat) will grow by the addition of one little girl.

To say her impending arrival was a surprise is an understatement. Sure, I know how babies are made. But with seven years between this little girl and our daughter, I kind of thought we’d skipped by the family growth cycle. Neither Lewis nor I are young — I’m labeled AMA, which stands for advanced maternal age, or too darn old, if you care for my interpretation — but someone with a higher power than us decided our family needed to grow and so it shall.

I guess in some ways we are fortunate. We’d never redone the nursery after Mallory moved into her big-girl room, so a pink room with antique Winnie the Pooh stuff is ready and waiting. And since the sentimental part of me couldn’t part with any of Mallory’s little tiny baby clothes, so we’re good in that regard, too.

 And I at least remember from the first time around that a lot of the baby stuff I had to have for Mal wasn’t really required — we had many, many things that if we used them at all, we used them sparingly. We’ll skip adding all of those our house this time around.

But a new baby is a change that involves so much more than stuff. And to say I’m a bit nervous is another one of those understatements.

I never was the calm mother when Mallory was little — I was the spazz who always was forgetting stuff (I often would leave the house and forget the diaper bag, if you organized moms can fathom that, and for those who have read my earlier posts, you’ll recall I forgot her at school on the first day I had to pick her up, so it hasn’t abated as she’s grown older).

 Add to that I work a lot (too much, probably, but I’m grateful to have a job given that so many of my journalism colleagues are unemployed), and that Lewis and I both continue to play softball in addition to Mallory’s extracurriculars, and I’m trying to plan out in my head how a baby is going to fit in.

 I know, silly me trying to plan in regards to a baby, right?

I guess it is fair to say that we are about to embark on a new adventure, and you are welcome to come along for the ride. I’m pretty sure I can promise you that after reading about my foibles as a parent, of which I’m fairly certain there will be many, you’ll take a look in the mirror and say, “Darn, I’m a great parent compared to her.”

–Julie Wallace