Ah… Now that feels good. Warm cup of Joe and a quiet expecting house. The air is a bit crisp but calm; soothing to breath. I awoke to the music of the very first chirping bird who at the time made my face cringe but by now I have long forgiven as I go about my morning rituals. Sifting through the newspaper and jotting down lists of things to do is really a rare opportunity and nearly extinct as I ever so patiently await the birth of my second child. Before I can even imagine such a leisure time however, I hear my daughter stirring and asking for "Mommy, dada?"
Shortly following those blissful sounds of unrelenting innocence are the sounds of running water as my husband readies himself for work. Now I have roughly about five minutes to finish a marginally interesting article before I have to start feeding, clothing, and answering all those domestic quandaries which seem to pour out like a flood of telemarketers at the dinner hour. And do so with the speedy accuracy of Superman, check that, Supermom/woman, whichever it is now.
Usually, …usually I can tackle the insistent demands of the morning rush with poise and careful planning, you know those lists and what ever prep-time I squeezed out from the previous day before, but today wasn't going to come quietly. This also happened to be the day my mom so generously offered to take our little bundle of energy to a Gymbaby class while I waddle over for a captivating prenatal doctor appointment.
After breakfast and general tidying up around the house I managed to run out of that precious commodity, time, trying to pull together my daughter's lunch while gently cutting short her morning nap. Yes my toddler still takes two naps, albeit two short naps but as any pregnant woman will attest to how very much appreciated they are. Needless to say my daughter wasn't eager to get changed and rush off after only forty five minutes of much beloved shut-eye. Rush is not synonymous with toddler. - Today she happened to be falling asleep in the highchair with banana in hand. As much as I wanted to call and cancel a part of me really thought this would be good for everyone.
I plop her in the car seat minus p.j. bottoms, threw her play clothes on top of her bag, grabbed all the diapers and wipes I could manage and shoved those in on top of the cheese, grapes and crackers, somehow managing to remember her swim bag and shoes miraculously. And my darling daughter is chirping away in the back seat as happy as a lark. "We'll just put you in your play clothes when we get there." I said. Instead of meeting at grandma's house I called and informed my mom that we were running behind and we'll meet her at the class.
Then I realized - OOPS, forgot sippy- cup. Okay, well that can easily be rectified but coming to realize I forgot to feed the dogs this morning just put a wrench in my organizational expectations. Those poor girls. I wont be back till later this afternoon and they'll be starving. I mumble to myself why I hate rushing around as I glance back to see how our little angle is doing and hope she isn't picking up on mommy's anxiety. Taking a deep breath -I remind myself of the benefits: Grandma, fun, class.
Gymbaby was packed! As I surveyed the crowd of gymmaniacs, not one familiar face stood out so I proceeded to reach over my humongus pregnant belly to snap on my daughters shorts and shoes; leaving on the p.j. top because… well -it will pass as a T-shirt. Filing through the door with my daughter on one hip and her diaper bag slung over my shoulder I excuse my pregnant self as I dodge unmanned toddlers up to the check-in counter.
She clings to me like a baby marsupial while I try to shift all the extra pounds over to one side. My back sends a sharp electrical shock down my leg as I nearly buckle from the pain waiting for the lady in front of me to step aside. She seems oblivious of the line forming behind her as she goes about chit-chatting; blocking anyone from taking name tags or signing in. Just a few whistles blow inside my head.
Finally able to set down my load, I took the opportunity to change a diaper since it was obvious the class had not yet started. And Here comes grandma. Now let me say this, this is her thing with her granddaughter. She initiated the whole thing; and how fun it would be and how it would be helping me out, et cetera. I had recently taken a break from going a few months earlier because my daughter wasn't as interested staying within the structured activities. She'd much rather go explore outside picking up leaves and rocks. However, my mom convinced me of the win/win benefits: she could play with her granddaughter and help me at the same time.
But I could see the look on my mom's face and she wasn't too sure what she got herself into as we watched the mayhem of frolicking toddlers all around us. Unfortunately I couldn't stay or I would miss my already much rescheduled appointment. So I wished her luck and tried hard not to look back.
By the time I finished with the Doctor's I was exhausted and starving. While waiting in line I begin to see spots and ponder my landing, for if I should pass out I wouldn't want to take anything or anyone out in the process. In addition to low blood/sugar levels I'm not feeling particularly patient either. I've got the worst case of heart burn except that by now it feels like all I can do not to throw-up. If I don't eat soon things could get ugly. I mean I'm pregnant, I would hate to see their faces when I come to.
I was finally able to take my moment of calm and eat with no interruptions. - Bliss -. The first real calm after such a hectic morning. The day begins to look better as I look forward to picking up my daughter and seeing her happy face babbling to me in all of her adorable baby talk. I tantalizing myself with dreams that she may take an afternoon nap and maybe even find time to make a real home cooked dinner. One learns while raising a family to forgo the traditional idea of home cooked meal in place of prepackaged pasta and bagged salads since the realities of prep-time are ever more challenging.
As I pull up to my parent's house I see my mom, dad, my beaming daughter and her adorable cousin all jumping up and down in the courtyard. I too felt like jumping I was so excited to see her. What is it about little hands and a big smile reaching up towards you as she exclaims "Upies! Upies!"
After the initial buzz of our reunion I had to ask how it all went at the gym class. "So how was your first day grandma?" I said expecting the worst. "We had Fun." she gloated. I was finding it hard to admit that I, the mommy, may not know all of my daughter's nuances. - Cringe - am I loosing my touch? She continues, "And after, I took her to ice cream." Oh dread, ice cream before lunch how nutritional, I thought. "Great…" I said sarcastically, leaving no doubt of my disapproval.
So I asked, since it seemed Gymbaby wasn't a total loss and this is my mom's thing, was she going to sign up for the class? "Well" she begins with a chuckle, "I'm not going to pay for it. All I wanted to do is take her for you, help you, blah, blah, blah." I started to tune out. This is where humor could be really handy. Did I say humor? I think I left my humor coupon back at "help you". I quickly diverted to change my daughter's poopy diaper. In her helpful voice, my mom says, "Oh I think she may have pooped, I smelled something before." This struck me as funny. Funny because my mom is usually really good about clean diapers. So why didn't she change it? Deep breath. No problem, grandma's tired and I just want to get home.
While I'm bent over my enormous medicine ball of a belly changing the greenest poop I've ever come across, my mom rattles off a list of things I must do within the next forty eight hours or something close to that. Swing by the mall and check out the blah blah blah sale, call my brother in Seattle so we can schedule his arrival with the baby's arrival. Yes, it's as absurd as it sounds. And oh, call up a few real estate agents about the great deals she cut out from the local throw-aways. I'm wrapping up the diaper as best as I can to seal in all the toxic waste while my excited eighteen month old is desperately squirming away with a new found force of freedom and all I can think of is escaping to the serenity of my car before I lose it.
To hell with routine. "It was all I could do to get down here in the first place so you could keep your play date with your granddaughter. Has it occurred to you I'm nine months pregnant with horribly swollen feet that carry more water than a camels back in the Sahara, and if you cared to ask how I was feeling you'd understand that lugging my daughter around all day kills my back; drains every ounce of energy I have, not to mention she grows rapidly impatient with car trips. I'm the one having the baby! I'm the one who needs help- I need sleep!" Catching my breath. "So while you're having fun with my hormones and managing my life I'm ever sorry that I just didn't hire a baby sitter!"…
But what did I really say? Nothing quite as homicidal as all that but I did manage to get out a quip or two about my present state of mind and her ridiculous ideas surrounding my free time. But non of it stuck and I'm starting to see red. Where does this leave me… with four weeks, give or take, of hormonal break downs still to go.
Remember my dream of that afternoon nap and tantalizing home cooked meal? Well let's just say I wasn't successful in getting my daughter to take her afternoon nap.- Big Surprise. We filled our afternoon up with a walk to the park picking up every rock, stick and leaf for inspection and serious contemplation. This walk carries many purposes with it. One to tire her out and two to help push me into labor. Ha!- Where have I heard that before?
Then having survived the notorious dinner dance we curl up as best we can and read stories. I think it was some where in my seventh month I gave up trying to read with a toddler in my lap. There just isn't room for everyone. I very nearly fell to sleep when I heard my husband rolling up at his usual hour. - Usually the hour after I could have really used his help. Nonetheless he is the only person who truly knows me and will forgive me ranting about my day.
He swoops up our little angel with a big hug and a kiss and nonchalantly asks "What's for dinner, I'm starved?" - Never mind "Hello". I start mumbling out loud to myself how I can't bear to stand on these two pin cushions called feet another minute. His response is to out do my day with a report on his day. How can he even begin to compete with my pity party.
But before I could think of something really obnoxious to say I heard the poor little cries from our deprived and starved dogs. I felt like crying too. I knew just how they felt; forgotten, taken for granted, hungry. And just then something clicked. I told my husband "No problem, I'll get dinner right now sweety." I walked into the pantry, grabbed three cans of dog food; two for the dogs and one for my loving and understanding husband. And I, not so quietly, served up his beef dog chow; and without further thought, hauled my belabored body up the stairs to take a well overdue bubble bath before I have a break down.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: The author, Marya Keeth-Stronck is a struggling writer/playwright and mother
of
two, (2 and under still in diapers). She is currently working on her graduate
degree in Theatre Arts and looking to get paid for what she loves to do most:
raise
her family and write. She has few recognized awards to her name but in the
last two
years was the recipient of the Most Valuable Mom Award sponsored by the
Stronck children; which Marya considers her most cherished achievement.
if you have any questions or comments!