Some days I still feel like that tired young mother years ago:
First, I stayed up too late. I was stalling because it looked like the dog was in labor. She was pacing, and cramming her swollen body into every odd nook she could find. She usually sleeps under the children’s bunkbeds but doesn’t seem to fit anymore. Serves her right for letting her boyfriend dig an escape tunnel so she could get out of her out of her outdoor run while we were at church nearly 2 months ago. Let’s just say Lady is no lady.
I fixed her a bed/birthing room in the corner of the living room, where she often naps during the day. It’s a rather private little nook where two sofas meet, but evidently wasn’t private enough. She kept trying to get into our bedrooms, desperate to try out the closets or see if she could still fit under the bed. Not this time, Lady.
I checked to see that the bedroom doors were all shut so she couldn’t get in, and I finally crawled into bed. It was well after midnight. What was I thinking? Bad idea, Kim. Almost as bad as me sitting here at 1:30 AM composing this post. If it’s disjointed and rambling, don’t blame me. Blame the clock. But I digress: it was well after midnight…
Then the baby woke up to eat. She started sleeping through the night at 3 days of age, but something happened around 3 months and she’s been hit-or-miss ever since. This time she woke earlier than usual, around 1:30. I had been sleeping for less than an hour. When she finished, I put her back in her bed and dozed off.
An hour later, I heard Becca calling me. I ignored her, hoping she was dreaming and would quiet down, but alas it was not to be. She kept calling, sounding neither groggy nor scared, but sad and persisent. My hopes were dashed when she came to my door. “Mom, I puked. In my bed. And my hair.”
After an undetermined amount of sanctification time, Becca was clean and settled into a comfy bed on the couch with a saucepan close at hand. I glanced in the direction of my bedroom and right on cue, the dog decided that she really had to go out RIGHT NOW. I’ve been pregnant enough times not to argue. I know what it’s like to have one baby sitting on a full bladder; I can’t imagine 9 or 12. I waited for far too long while she did whatever it is that dogs do. I suspect her of tracking deer, but in her condition the deer must have been laughing. She finally waddled back to the door, doing her best to look innocent. Considering the fact that our pedigreed Golden Retriever is about to deliver an unplanned litter of mongrels, I wasn’t buying the innocent look.
Hmm. My groggy brain is now wondering if there was a punchline to this story. There was supposed to be humor in it, honest, and no whining. Can you just laugh and pretend I made it sound funny? Because it was funny in my head, and I wasn’t feeling whiny about it. I was very grateful to have plenty of energy for the long, busy, exciting day ahead, and we lived happily ever after. Honest. And the dog didn’t have her pups yet. Are you laughing yet? Come on, just a little one? It’s the holiday season; what better time to ho-ho at your friend’s lame jokes?
But I wasn’t going to end there: I was going to tell you that the girls and I left the house at 1 to go help with orders at Vision Forum, and then I was going to tie it into the fact that my Hardworkin’ Man is on his 2nd day of double shifts. Yesterday he worked from about 8 AM to after 1 AM, plus an hour commute on each end of the day. Today, he started a bit later but plans to work til 3 AM. Did you hear that, people? Three. A. M. All this without overtime pay or a hint of compaining – just a dedication to getting the job done on time.
If you placed a last-minute order with Vision Forum, you might say a little prayer of thanks for my man when your package arrives.