No drafting. No revising. No time to make this sound nice. It is what it is on a first type:
I always yell at J---- about cursing. But in the end I probably curse as much if not more than he does. Oh the irony of it all. Call me cocky; call me arrogant; call me naive. Call me just about anything right now and I really won't care at all. I won't even fight back. I probably won't even give you a second glance. Or if I do, it will be with a well of tears in my eyes and no strength whatsoever. You'll be looking at an entirely different lady than from just a few weeks back.
A few weeks back I was just a tired lady. I was a lady carrying around about 35 extra pounds and wondering when I'd no longer be pregnant. In fact, the idea of not being pregnant was blissful. In my mind it meant shedding not only the cumbersome belly, but time away from the classroom, and the start of an entirely new chapter in my life. Yet, for all the books I've read, studied, and even taught, I wasn't entirely prepared for where this narrative was actually headed. I guess in retrospect that's pretty cool. It would actually be a bit lame if I could have, in fact, predicted or determined the course of things to come.
So, here I am right now learning to do what many, many women before have me have learned to do. Here we are as a couple again navigating those first few months of newborn land---a land with no determined schedule, no rest for the weary, one that is so isolating at times that the end is far from see-able, or more grammatically correct recognizable/evident/clear/obvious. Arghhh I don't think see-able is a word. Is it? OK---I KNOW it's not a word, I haven't lost my entire mind. But you know what? For today, in my world, it'll just have to do. OK? Throw me a bone. OK? Here my two older guys have been thrown into a world that requires them to be patient, sometimes quiet, wait, and be without mom for a great deal of time (at first). That's a lot to ask of little people. But regardless, I'm asking, pleading, yelling, and unfortunately demanding it of them quite often now.
All of this inevitably brings with it a mountain of guilt, questioning, insecurity, indecision, and of course random tears. All of which are truly frustrating and annoying to a woman who normally runs her life much like the bell schedule at school---up at dawn, out the door on the dot, slave to the clock at work, and the evening rush of pick-ups, dinner time, bath, stories, and then bed. Take all the factors from above (minus work) and throw them up in the air, and let them fall where they may---now start. OK---so that's pretty dramatic, and not quite or even close to how things are running. But that's how I feel a lot of the time.
But as I type this out I realize how petty, self-absorbed, and dramatic I must actually sound. Because in the end, while there is a lot of crying, whining, acting out (even by me---the 37 year old mom!) each day we all fall asleep together under one roof. And I can go late-night (since I'm up) from room to room and see the chests of each my most beloved people rise and fall in complete peace.
With that said, I vow to stop drowning as my sister wisely tells me. To order pizza, let C----- ride his bike around the block with wild abandon, let C---- and K------ watch Nick Jr. until bathtime even if they watched it while I nursed C--- again, kiss J----- before I fall asleep at 8pm, again, and to delegate, ask for help more.
It will all come together. It did the first time. It did again the 2nd time. So, it will this time too. And it's not a measure of me or my family as to how long it takes and what roads we go down to get there. We will all pile in together. And along the way there will be yelling, story-telling, singing, laughing, giggling, fart noises, fast food runs, pee breaks, bitching, accidents, moments of bliss, cursing, smiling, and finally the peaceful sounds of sleeping from my fantastic four. And before we know it we will have figured out how to be a party of five.