Adventures in Never-Land

We've all got one: a list of things we swore we'd never do, yet ended up doing anyway.

I clearly remember thinking that boys were so gross and that I would never in a million years kiss one. I didn't care what the grownups said ... kissing was disgusting. And then poof - I was in first grade and getting in trouble at recess for chasing my crush du jour down, tackling him, and laying a big wet smooch right on his smacker. What?? I've always been a girl who knows how to get what she wants by use of excessive force.

I said I'd never be a neat freak like my mom. Because *insert teenage girl voice here* like, ohmigawd, I wanna have a life and not be all anal about how clean the house is all the time. *eye roll* Yet here I sit, a real live adult, staring with dismay at a sink full of dirty dishes and an overflowing laundry basket and only wishing I wasn't psychologically tortured by their presence.

I said I'd never wear big underwear. And though I won't elaborate (you're welcome), sometimes big underwear is a necessity.

I swore I would never try grits because ewwwww. And then I tasted a teeny bit of them and seriously? I swear that at this point cheese grits are singly responsible for at least seventeen pounds of weight gain. Heaven on a spoon, y'all.

I vowed that after potty-training a two-year-old, dealing with an infant in diapers, and housebreaking a puppy - all at the same time - that one dog was enough. And then Destiny intervened ... literally.

Before I had kids, I had a whole repertoire of superior parenting skills mapped out. They'd eat nothing but organic, well-balanced meals. I'd limit their TV. I'd only use positive reinforcement. But right now? My kids are crusted with brownie batter and watching Ratatouille. For the second time today. Because I'm too tired to yell at them.

Yes, sometimes there are things that just ruffle your best-laid plans. But, you know, in a good way. If I had stuck to my guns about kissing, I'd be in like a convent somewhere. If I hadn't tried grits, I'd be seven pounds lighter never know the pleasure of a hot, comforting bowl on a cold day.

Which is why, although I said I was never going to have more than three children, I can't be upset about this:

Yep. It's a pregnancy test. A positive pregnancy test - one of a million that I've taken just to be sure. (And no, I'm not dirty, that's cocoa powder on my fingers. Don't ask). Baby #4 is due June 8th, 2012 ... the day after Colin's seventh birthday. We are totally surprised (for a hot second I thought I may have gotten pregnant from a toilet seat or something), but completely happy.

Never say never: it's more than a Justin Bieber song.