I post about me building tables and things while great with child. I write impassioned political articles, homeschool tips, book reviews and the occasional gospel oriented post. Smattered in between those are pictures and stories of my seemingly perfect children. I post about the good days but not always about the bad. I take careful note of my “honeymoon” trimester and bursts of nesting activity but I neglect to tell you that my good days are getting farther apart and my crazy cry-baby days are getting closer together.
Can I tell you a secret? All of these awesome pictures or videos where I’m making things were taken weeks ago, before I hit the “can’t get up out of the chair” phase. I schedule them so that my posts are scattered. The truth is the most impressive thing I’ve done in the last few weeks in make a smoothie after my OB appt yesterday.
On Sunday I was yelled at by an cranky, old woman at church. I was sitting in the overflow area with the kids, Matt had been on call the night before and was stuck in the hospital. Jack was being Jack and that was apparently too much for the woman in front of us. She turned around and “asked” me to take him out and when I told her I couldn’t she “suggested” that I have someone else do it. I wanted to give her a lecture about how inappropriate it would be for me to ask someone I didn’t know to take my son. I wanted to tell her that the only people I know well enough to ask are struggling with their own children but mostly I wanted to remind her that the scripture does NOT say “suffer the little children to be silent or absent”.
Instead I sat in the back and cried. A red face and runny nose is all the rage at church these days after all.
My week sure started off with a bang. The next day my relief society president came over and helped me catch up my laundry and dishes. I’m so grateful!
Unless he has plans for an earlier arrival the boy will be born in four weeks. I. Can’t. Wait. If my past experience is any indication then about two weeks after he is born I will have far more energy than my body will be ready for and my default face will no longer include a furrowed brow. I can’t tell you how much I am looking forward to that feeling again.
I decided that for a $7 delivery charge it was worth it for me to have my groceries delivered rather than 1. take the kids or 2. go by myself when I could be spending time with my beloved husband. Grocery delivery just might be the greatest thing to ever happen to a pregnant mother of four. I’ve never done it before, I’ll tell you how it goes.