I woke up this morning feeling like I couldn’t come out of a stupor. I mean, I just couldn’t wake up properly. Henry sort of snuggled/wrestled me and I flopped around just sort of going with it and hanging on to sleep as long as possible. Sam gave me a hug and when I wrapped my arm round him I felt that he had changed partially into his school clothes — which is a major victory for him to do so without being prompted several times so I gave him some extra pats on his bottom.
I hauled myself out of bed and made breakfast. I let Henry push down the lever on the toaster. He pulled out the little guitar we brought home yesterday for the baby’s room. He played me a really loud song while I padded around the kitchen absentmindedly. He reminded me that this was HIS toy and that HE was still the baby and I just patted him on the head thinking, “Oh boy, are we gonna have a time of it when this little guy comes.”
I finished making breakfast and went and laid back down in my dark room on my cool bed and texted Craig good morning. He took my car to the dealership today to deal with the flat tire I got yesterday in Indiana. He texted me that the car didn’t have a flat tire but that someone had let the air out. And they think it might be because of my Obama sticker. And he thinks it may be time to take it off. To which I replied, “No way. This aggression will not stand, man.”
I’ve got so much to do today. I have so much to do every day, frankly. And I know that this is pretty much most human beings on earth, but today, I feel particularly burdened by it. Between being a stay at home mom who does all the shopping and a lot of cleaning and cooking and a hell of a lot of mothering, and a student of the dreaded statistics (which OH. MY. GOD. What a hideous, heinous class) and my job responsibilities which have been hectic and sort of “put out the fire” of late, and upcoming rehearsals for a show I’m re-directing, and the Saturdays I spend judging speech tournaments, and the Sundays spent house hunting, and prepping for baby threepeat, and being nearly eight months pregnant… I just feel pretty taxed. I feel lucky, but damn it, I feel taxed too. I am aware that we are all sort of on our own and don’t really understand what the other is going through. That most people are overwhelmed and feel like they have too many responsibilities and that if someone else stepped into their lives they couldn’t hack it. And I imagine a lot of us are right. The truth is, you couldn’t hack it in my life, and I couldn’t hack it in yours.
Anyway, I picked myself up out of bed and took Sam to school. Henry brought the guitar and continued to play us songs until I begged him to take a break and then Sam and I discussed what the tooth fairy does with all the teeth she collects. Our hypotheses: She gives them to little babies (ew), she uses them as decorations in her house, she uses them to build her house, or the teeth have magical properties and she uses them for potions. Then we discussed where she lives (either Asia, South America, the North Pole or on an undiscovered island somewhere.) He got out of the car and disappeared into his unknown day and Henry and I came home.
I put on Cars for him and he snuggled up in my lap saying “I’m your baby, mama! (oh boy) and I told him “you sure are. No matter how big you get, you’ll always be my baby and I’ll hold you and rock you as much as you like.” And then he kissed my belly and said “hi little brother” and then I wish I could tell you that I cried or something but what really happened is he hopped up and got his cars to play with and I went in the kitchen and made peanut butter toast and, quite frankly, I postponed about 1/2 of the things on my to-do list leaving me a good solid manageable list of things to do today plus a big pile of guilt.
Onwards we go. I hope you are having a good day. I hope you are not overwhelmed by your tasks (even if they are good tasks) or by something much more ominous and scary and meaningful than an interminable uncompleteable task list. Hugs and kisses and snuggles to all the little babies who’ve grown up. I hope someone reminds you today that they couldn’t hack it being you. Because they couldn’t.