I spent the weekend at my cousin’s wedding on the Outer Banks of North Carolina. When I booked my ticket back in the fall, it was nearly $500, and we couldn’t figure out how to spend $1,500 for all three of us to attend the wedding for a couple days (since we were feverishly saving up money to convert our 85% loan-to-value construction loan to an 80% loan-to-value 30-year-fixed mortgage).

Part of me was really excited to have a weekend away by myself before the baby comes. But as it got closer and closer, I grew sadder and sadder that my guys couldn’t join me at the beach.

Although I

I know I might not sound like a reliable source when I say that Matt and I are done after two children, since we used to think we only wanted one child and then switched our minds. But, really, I think we mean it this time.

There are many reasons why two–not three–children make sense for us. First, I think we’re going to be at capacity with two children. With each passing day as Henry becomes more verbal, more interactive, and more independent, Matt and I find that our joy is increasing exponentially. We anticipate that welcoming another infant into our lives (although we are over-the moon with gratitude)