Welp, I’m pregnant again. I’m almost 11 weeks – due August 1st, which means I’ll probably be induced on August 8th…because that’s the way I seem to roll. You know – we’re just going to do them all within a month of each other. Adelle will be 5 in July, Baby B will arrive, and then Marilee will turn 2 – all between July 19th and August 28th. I mean, it’s going to be totally calm and smooth…
True to form, I’m also sick. Oh the awe and wonder of the first flippin’ trimester. It was super horrible at my parent’s house over Thanksgiving. Then it eased enough that I was able to, you know, take care of my children between the hours of 8 and 5. Nothing more. Some mornings, though, I receive full and generous doses of hormones. The following happened on such a day: I got to do the first bent over the toilet gig. It probably could’ve been avoided if lying very still all day long had been an option. And also if I had not eaten Crawtators with lunch. Hindsight’s 20/20.
While I rid my stomach of said Crawtators, my caring, sweet, does not know how to be quiet particularly when she’s stressed Adelle ran into the bathroom and asked, “Mommy, are you okay? Are you throwing up? Mommy? What’s the matter?” Until, in a moment of respite, ordered her to go to her room until I finished. She obeyed but it probably took every ounce of self-control she could muster. Bless her.
I spent the rest of the day as still as possible in a reclining position on the couch while the girls watched TV and tore the house to shreds. At one point, Adelle brought me one of my old socks and asked if she could make a puppet out of it. Obviously I agreed as long as she could handle it without me having to move from my position on the couch. I’m pretty sure I read Marilee every book she could locate and felt pretty good about her systematically taking ornaments off the tree…all the breakable ones were at the top. All I could think about was a story my mom tells about my ever patient Aunt Nancy when her two kids, Rachel and Scott, were preschoolers. She’d just had surgery of some sort and my Uncle Bill had gone back to work. Rachel and Scott made a road of books from their room, all the way down the stairs, into the living room, and over her on the couch and she just kept saying, “Get another one, Scott.” They were occupied and she was doing the best she possibly could do by encouraging them to – for the love of survival – just stay occupied!
Mama’s – you have all been there, no?
I digress. You thought that was the end? Ooooohhh, no.
Josh had a late meeting. We had no food in the house that I felt I could safely consume without seeing it again later. I determined to throw the kids in the car about 20 minutes before he was to arrive home and make a Walgreen’s run for chicken noodle soup, crackers, and Gatorade. They complied with my shoe throwing on antics pretty well and while Adelle was gathering up some final piece of clothing, I buckled Marilee in the car and threw my purse in the front seat. As I walked around to the driver’s seat, I heard a click. I tried the door. Yep….locked. I looked through the window and little Miss M had my keys. Not a joke. She quickly realized that she was stuck and started to cry around the time Adelle came downstairs and started in with the questions.
Do you know what I did? I said down on the ground and cried. Like for real, I am officially at the end of my rope, cried. Adelle snapped me out of it when she ran and got a stool so she could see Marilee and tell her everything was okay in between running over to me and saying, “It’s aw-wight, Mommy. I’m saw-wy youh sad.”
When your 4 year old is playing caretaker, it’s time to put your big girl panties on. I walked over and tried to soothe Marilee until Josh arrived home and took over. I cried when he got there. The girls cried when I left to retrieve my dinner necessities. I lost it again when I walked in and the girls were having the exact same meal they had for lunch: Peanut Butter and Jelly with chips. I was intensely aware of my inability to take care of my little family the way I usually do, and at that raging hormonal moment it felt like they would be permanently scarred by this day.
I cried for a good hour in bed while watching the sing off and sipping chicken noodle soup.
That was a low day. It’s true. But all the days have been milder versions of that one. (I nearly caused Adelle to miss her Christmas ballet performance because I thought it was another day of the week all day long.) Josh has been a one man band, and I’m so grateful for his ability to take such great care of us, but we are all ready for mommy to be mommy again – just for a little while. What has amazed me, though, is that except for that one day, I’ve pretty much let myself off the hook. I am one woman. One miserably sick, already showing a saggy lump [which has apparently replaced the cute bump of pregnancies one and two], kinda grumpy woman. I know who God better this time. I know He only expects what I have to give and right now that’s just not a lot.
Every year our pastor asks us to pray for a word that will be our emphasis for the year as well as scripture to go with it. You never know how God will mold your year around the word you choose – it really is a cool exercise that has facilitated a lot of growth in my life. Due to the very lengthy explanation above, my word for the year is “wine.” Any guesses about why??? 😉