How Are You?

When you approach the end of any pregnancy it seems that the most common questions revolve around, "How are you?"  I usually smile and claim that I am dying.  The honest truth is, though, that I am wearing down...  Let me enlighten you, just for fun.

The days that are the best are the ones that I don't have to go anywhere, thus allowing me to forego the over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder--an apparatus that is comparable to tying a rope around my mid section and tightening it beyond reason and then flipping a switch so that some unseen force begins to  push and kick and beat on my ribs and aforementioned midsection from the inside out.  This baby has a favorite spot.  It involves my ribs and his feet.  And it hurts.  A lot.  I keep thinking it's almost time for him to drop...come on...you can do it little guy...move down.  In the past couple of days I have had moments, even an hour or so, of time where is has drifted on down to more normal baby-carrying regions and I suddenly think to myself, "I can breath!  My ribs aren't screaming in pain!  My kidneys aren't aching!  Pure bliss."  Then he crawls back up and practices his monkey bars just to let me know who is still the boss in this relationship.

So physically I am about spent.  I am huger than I have ever been...in my life--which apparently makes me a snorer on top of everything else.  So Jason is suffering too.

Then you throw in the mix--the 5 little monkeys that are running around my house.  Monkey number one is reasonable and responsible and amazing--until it comes to showering and practicing her music.  Then she is the master of procrastination and distraction.  Monkey number two has reached new levels of anxiety and is currently giving me a run for my money.  She comes home from school crying because of the amount of energy she spends worrying and trying to not look like she is worrying.  So-and-so picked his nose and she saw it so she has to spend the whole day avoiding him and anything that he might have touched or could possibly touch.  So-and-so might have spit on her, but she's not sure, but just in case she better go wash up a bit.  And then there is so-and-so's Dad.  He drinks.  It worries her.  Plus there's the spelling bee that their class was supposed to do on  Thursday of last week, but it hasn't happened yet.  So every night we have to go over four pages, front and back, of possible spelling words because she is bound and determined to make the cut.  Oh, and let's not forget about going to the bathroom.  If we are going somewhere she better go to the bathroom--5 times--just to make sure she doesn't have to go once we've gone.  And at bedtime.  She has a routine that involves going to the bathroom.  But then she has to go right before she gets in bed so she won't wet the bed.  And if she ends up talking to Sierra for 10 minutes then she better go one more time.  (And no, she has never actually wet the bed).  Monkey number 3 has foot and leg pains (from Celiac) and wakes up unable to walk on one foot for half the day.  Or her stomach hurts and she just can't function.  Or she just wants to snuggle because she is a middle child who doesn't feel well half the time.  Or somebody did something mean.  Monkeys four and five have their own issues.  We'll call them screaming and hitting.  No biggie.

This is reality in our house right now.  Tired, aching, whale-of-a-mother is doing her best to calm the fears, dry the tears, and teach appropriate communication skills, while encouraging her children to become master musicians and geniuses of the world.  It's a little harder than it usually is and honestly, my children have picked up a few more chores--namely, removing Mom's boots.  But I have faith that in the end it will all work out--it's just that endurance thing I am struggling with right now.  Not that it's going to get any easier--at least not for a while.  But it's worth it.  I haven't forgot.

I will not forget.  I will not forget.  Through the pain and the tears, the anxiety and the yelling, the sheer exhaustion of motherhood--I will not forget....