Sloppy

There's a girl I know from high school and I'm 100% sure she doesn't read this blog so I can be frank. I just saw this girl at the grocery store. And, as always, not only were her two boys quiet and well behaved, she looked great. Great outfit, hair blown dry, make up, the whole nine yards. She drives the car I want and she's skinny. Now, without a doubt every time I see this girl, I am without makeup, have not showered and a little bigger than I was in high school...and that's not pregnant. Today, I have the pregnancy crop top going on where my belly creeps out of every shirt I wear. I was also teetering with a small crop of groceries in my hands and tugging and nagging at Declan, who was wearing his Halloween jammies at noon. Yes, I should have put him in the shopping cart, even for just a few items (that's what she did). And usually I can make some sort of excuse for my hectic presentation. But today...I just felt sloppy.

She is the representation of everything I wish I could be: in control, looking good, and fit. Instead, I can barely stand to take Declan anywhere these days because my energy level is so low. Trust me, there's nothing I would be prouder of than to be one of those women who exercise all pregnancy, gain the minimum amount of weight, and look great all the time. But those things couldn't be more opposite from my pregnancy experiences, especially this one. I'm crampy, uncomfortable, massive, and tired.

I know I'm creating a wonderful life inside me, and I wouldn't give up the gift that Oooh will be for anything, even a perfect body and wardrobe. And I read today that the key to happiness is gratitude. So I know I need to be grateful for this little boy. There are so many women who are struggling with difficult pregnancies or even getting pregnant at all, so I don't want to diminish how lucky I am, I think I'm just getting to that place where I want my body back, my energy back, and to return to "normal".

Wait, what was that you said? Oh yeah, normal isn't even close to happening anytime soon. As soon as Oooh comes there's the sleepless nights, spit up, worrying about SIDS and pacifiers and what foods I eat that could give him gas. Not to mention recovering from birth and adjusting to having two kids to take care of once my husband goes back to work and is gone again every week.

Wasn't I saying something about being grateful? Maybe I'll let myself feel bad today and tomorrow I'll be grateful. Yeah, that sounds good. Now I need another cookie.

Let's Pretend

Awhile ago, I wrote about the difference between being pregnant the first time, and now being pregnant with a 2 1/2 year old. And the floor is officially my sworn enemy. But Declan exists on the floor. We play blocks, in the sandbox, and with his beloved farm all on the effing floor. And my awkward roll-to-the-left-then-on-all-fours way of getting up is becoming embarrassing. But I have no choice because, as I've already said, it's really not about me this time. There's cleaning and cooking and playing to do, and it's not going to happen while I have my feet up on the couch.

On the plus side, the little boy in my tummy is getting bigger and bigger and the day when we get to meet him is coming right up. I'm not sure how Declan's going to take it, especially because when I told him I was going to have to hold the baby a lot, Declan said "no, you are going to hold me". Luckily, Rich will be here for six weeks and that should give us all a chance to adjust.

But once Rich goes back to work, it's going to be just me four days a week. I'm not going to lie and say I'm not terrified. I forget though that Rich started traveling every week Monday through Friday when Declan was five months old and I survived that. And frankly, I have to remember how good I have it. I can stay home with my boys, we live in a safe neighborhood, and if I need to survive through babysitters and take out, I won't be breaking my budget. Life could be worse. In fact it is for about 95% of the world. For me, perspective is the key to being grateful. How easy it is to only compare yourself to people who "have it easier". That, I've discovered is the key to unhappiness.

But enough of the affirmations, this blog is about Declan, and he does not disappoint. I'm sure I've said this thousands of times, but he continually blows my mind. He loves to sing the Caillou theme song, but knows none of the words. The sandbox equals naked time. Seriously, it's like Pavlov's dog. He heads toward the sandbox while stripping and will throw a massive fit if he's required to leave any of his clothes on. And we're in the asking questions phase. Except with Declan, he just repeats the same question about 10 times until you've formulated your answer. This one is not waiting for answers, and he's afraid you'll forget what he asked .5 seconds ago.

And he's finally started to grasp pretend. Usually it will confuse him a little, like when we ask him if he's a frog (or Curious George or a choo choo, etc.) and he'll look at you very seriously and say, "no, I'm not a frog, I'm a boy". But he loves to prepare lunch for Rich and I to eat and this morning he wanted to know what kind of animal each piece of his waffle was. I love two! Aside from the tantrums (which are plentiful), it's just really fun to sit and have a conversation with my son.

We've had a great month so far, Rich had surgery and has been home for a week and a half now. And there's nothing better than seeing how happy Declan is when Rich is home. There's just a sense of contentment that is missing when Daddy is gone. There's nothing that makes me happier than when Declan turns to me and tells me to go away, he just wants to be with Daddy.

Now we're just biding our time until Thanksgiving when Rich will work from home until baby Oooh comes in mid-December. Then, we'll have some family time for six weeks while Rich is home for his paternity leave. This year, we'll have a lot to be thankful for.