39 weeks and 6 days

It strikes me as I sit here in contemplation that I may be jumping out of the frying pan into the fire, as the saying goes. Yet…the inevitable is upon me and I speed its coming with all the anticipation that I can muster. Tomorrow is D-day. I will be 40 weeks pregnant, looking “huge” as friends and strangers alike are pleased to point out.

Though four children seems daunting in theory, what is more formidable is three kids and being pregnant, nay, very pregnant,  it is a final and undeniable fact. They out number me, they are faster than I and somehow over the past months have gradually taken advantage of my increasing slowness and fatigue to where I have suddenly woken to the realization that they have my number and are beginning to call my bluff on a daily basis.

This is where I am. I have missed sitting down to my computer on any given night and ranting or philosophizing over the humor, inconsistencies and general pleasure  of home grown life. I have missed playing the violin. Some things just had to go on the back burner for a little while.

I have not given up this blogging endeavor (contrary to public opinion) that has satisfied a very deep need to write and to pontificate without interruption  and look forward to many satisfying outbursts …. However, this pregnancy has thrown down the gauntlet on my super hero qualifications and called into question all the superfluity of my assertions in this department. I have had to get down to basics and live them one day at a time. Day after day has passed and I find myself nearing the end of this season and wishing I had enjoyed the journey just a little more.

….Enjoyed the endless moments where Mason wanted to touch and listen to my belly.

….Enjoyed the countless hours we spent reading on the couch, trying to protect my tummy from bony elbows and knees and trying to help Drake feel like he is sitting on my lap when really there is no lap to sit on anymore.

….Enjoyed the loud romping that occurs when the kids greet their dad at the end of a work day.

 Why is it hard to enjoy the times when life is irregular or just plain difficult when from experience I think we can all agree that some of the most beautiful moments come out of those times and we look back with gratitude and wonderment at what we’ve learned and who we have become.

I have never been more painfully aware that I am not supermom and I remind myself once again that I titled this blog “Admissions of a superhero” not because I am so amazing but because on a daily basis I have the opportunity to be amazing to some little person who has a moment of need. They don’t see all the things I do imperfectly or the housework left undone, but they feel my arms when they are sad and my huge smile every time they succeed. That’s what I love about being a stay at home mom. I get to be there during the random everyday moments to give a thumbs up or sing Jingle Bells loudly in March because my two year old loves it so much. I get to be the one with the dish towel tucked in the back of my shirt because Mason and I are superhero’s.

So, maybe I am acutely aware that the 100 lunges a day and two miles on the treadmill these past months have been insufficient to preserve the curves of my gluteus and maybe my dad thought it was funny to recommend I get a walker. At this moment, it can’t last forever.

 

 

 

 

Four kids.

 Bring it on!