You know the saying, "I'm like rubber and you're like glue...blah blah something about saying rude stuff, blah"? (I think I'm missing a few words in there, but the important ones are mentioned.)
Sometimes I feel like I'm the glue and my kids are rubber. No matter how many times I fling them from me, they just bounce back and stick (generally to my leg area, unless of course I'm sitting, and then it's a whole body free for all.)
Older mothers say, "But you'll miss this stage when it's over!"
And I say, "Yeah yeah...I know," as I push a diapered butt out of my face and detach a slobbering mouth from my shin.
I know my kids are growing up fast. And I know I will miss it. Because honestly I love the baby stage best of all kid stages (although 2 & 3 year olds are a crack-up, but come with grown up poop and tantrums.) And I no longer have a baby, Number Four is an official attitude-itious toddler. Sometimes I fall into utter parental despair at the thought of never having another baby - therefore the option is deniably still open, because someday my body might let me. Plus, there's always adoption.....if we could ever afford it. (See the denial?)
Except that it doesn't help this whole despair and denial thing when everyone on the face of the planet is pregnant. (Or just some of you...) My body is still going through pregnancy withdrawal. When Number Four was born I hadn't gone more than 9 months in a row not pregnant or nursing (or both) in my married life. Last month I had my 1 year anniversary of not doing either.
ONE YEAR.
Never mind that I'm still just as fat as my early post-partum body started. Because in every other way it's like everything in me is just expecting to be pregnant. Sometimes I even get phantom baby movements in my gut, only to realize I shouldn't have eaten so much bean dip. And some days I wake up nauseous only to realize that I have no reason to be, and therefore can't make up an excuse good enough to spend the day on the couch. And I'm always making Husband buy me pregnancy tests "just in case" and "you never know" when really we do know, and there's really no "case" that would involve me becoming pregnant. (Since, if I did, things would get pretty ugly health wise.)
But I do have to admit that I am also really enjoying not actually having morning sickness. Or growing a larger stomach. Or having to worry about things like preterm labor or tearing amniotic sacs. Or sleepless, baby feeding, nights. Or another kid in diapers when we just barely got down to only having two un-potty-trained children. Or how we'd fit a fifth carseat into our minivan.
So it's ok.
Plus I have my slobbering, adorable, rubber-like children who can maul me when I'm feeling like another baby would make me happier.
Sometimes I feel like I'm the glue and my kids are rubber. No matter how many times I fling them from me, they just bounce back and stick (generally to my leg area, unless of course I'm sitting, and then it's a whole body free for all.)
Older mothers say, "But you'll miss this stage when it's over!"
And I say, "Yeah yeah...I know," as I push a diapered butt out of my face and detach a slobbering mouth from my shin.
I know my kids are growing up fast. And I know I will miss it. Because honestly I love the baby stage best of all kid stages (although 2 & 3 year olds are a crack-up, but come with grown up poop and tantrums.) And I no longer have a baby, Number Four is an official attitude-itious toddler. Sometimes I fall into utter parental despair at the thought of never having another baby - therefore the option is deniably still open, because someday my body might let me. Plus, there's always adoption.....if we could ever afford it. (See the denial?)
Except that it doesn't help this whole despair and denial thing when everyone on the face of the planet is pregnant. (Or just some of you...) My body is still going through pregnancy withdrawal. When Number Four was born I hadn't gone more than 9 months in a row not pregnant or nursing (or both) in my married life. Last month I had my 1 year anniversary of not doing either.
ONE YEAR.
Never mind that I'm still just as fat as my early post-partum body started. Because in every other way it's like everything in me is just expecting to be pregnant. Sometimes I even get phantom baby movements in my gut, only to realize I shouldn't have eaten so much bean dip. And some days I wake up nauseous only to realize that I have no reason to be, and therefore can't make up an excuse good enough to spend the day on the couch. And I'm always making Husband buy me pregnancy tests "just in case" and "you never know" when really we do know, and there's really no "case" that would involve me becoming pregnant. (Since, if I did, things would get pretty ugly health wise.)
But I do have to admit that I am also really enjoying not actually having morning sickness. Or growing a larger stomach. Or having to worry about things like preterm labor or tearing amniotic sacs. Or sleepless, baby feeding, nights. Or another kid in diapers when we just barely got down to only having two un-potty-trained children. Or how we'd fit a fifth carseat into our minivan.
So it's ok.
Plus I have my slobbering, adorable, rubber-like children who can maul me when I'm feeling like another baby would make me happier.
Comments
Also, your bunch of cuties is pretty adorable, so I can't blame you for enjoying where you are at.
xoxo
Honestly, kids do grow up fast. And as soon as you start to really enjoy them--they leave home. And that is considered our reward.
And I don't think that I'll want to change that ever again, and yet...
I totally get where you're coming from.