As I begin writing this, my two baby girls are upstairs probably flooding the bathroom, squeezing out all the toothpaste and pooping in a guitar case. My son Cohen is probably on his way home with Rochelle after an exciting day at preschool. I have three little babies and a beautiful wife that are the joy of my life.

My wife and I have been going back and forth about having just one more. Rochelle wants this so badly, but Iā€™m just not on board. She talks about years down the road, when we're at Disneyland and one of us has to ride solo because there's an odd number. I gladly raise my hand and volunteer. She talks about big family gatherings in 20 years, and I think about serving bread and milk because of college and two weddings I just had to pay for. She thinks about a house that our kids grow up in and growing old in that same house until I die(first). I think about selling our home as soon as the kids are out, buying a shack on the beach and working at a rent-a-scooter shop. She wants a fourth kid so badly, and all I can think about is how divided my time is already.

This morning is the first time I've thought about wanting a fourth and believe me; it was a surprise. Surprised me to the point where I was sick to my stomach. Sick to my stomach because of how badly I want a fourth. It was about nine years ago that we found out we were pregnant and about nine years ago that we found out we weren't any longer. At that point in my life, I just thought that the right thing to do was to be the rock for Rochelle, the constant in her life. I've never really dealt with the loss, and to be honest, I don't really want to. But this morning, I really wanted a fourth. My nine almost ten-year-old baby. That's the fourth that I want and maybe deep down inside, that's why I feel like we're/I'm done.

We're surprising our kids with a trip to Disneyland in a couple of days, and they're going to go nuts. It's my favorite thing in the world, spoiling and surprising our kids(even though I'm terrible at keeping a surprise a surprise.) As we head out on Sunday, there's going to be a full heart and an almost full van, and I think now, it'll be hard to raise my hand to ride solo because deep down, I know there should have been a little 9-year-old with me.

To you, my sweet baby, we love you, we think about you, and daddy's coming one day to take that seat next to you.