...and no, I'm not referring to the milk jugs that disappeared (sadly) from my chest. But it IS pregnancy related. Isn't everything?
It's probably just a mix of being postpartum, inadequate sleep and too much time to think about things. But I am kind-of pissed that I'm no longer pregnant. I LOVE having Blake here - don't get me wrong about that - but I wasn't finished being pregnant when she arrived. Makes complete sense, right? The girl who complained nonstop about being pregnant is now saying that she wasn't ready to end her pregnancy a few weeks earlier than anticipated? WTF?
I guess I just feel like I needed to do more things. I wanted to take a final belly shot. I wanted to have her room completely ready. I had tons of drawers to clean out and wanted to straighten out our closet. I wanted to be emotionally and mentally ready for the last child that I would have growing inside of me. Maybe you are never really ready to have your last baby, but I at least wanted the opportunity to try.
This is something that has been on my mind since August 19th. And it hasn't gone away so I am pretty sure it's a legitimate feeling. That's not saying it's normal... but it's legitimate.
And another thing, has anyone found a way to slow down the clock? I want to push the PAUSE button and enjoy Dennis, Connor and Blake more than I am able to do in a normal 24 hour period. HELLO, I need more time in a day. I know that I'm the first one to ever ask for that.
I didn't realize it when it was happening, but I have tried my best to manipulate time and make my maternity leave go as slow as possible. I didn't want to be overly busy because, as we all know, "time flies when you are having fun". So, in a backwards type of way, I thought that if I wasn't having fun, at least time would go more slowly. Talk about being smart and beating the clock at it's own game. Or maybe not being smart at all. Time still managed to escape my grasp. I was unsuccessful at slowing it down.
Maybe I had it backwards, afterall. Since time was moving too quickly when I was trying not to have fun, maybe it would move less quickly when I caved in and participated in something that I wanted to do.
So, I gave in to some fun options as of late, and just as I feared, the days and minutes were never long enough. I went to the beach with some girlfriends a few weeks ago. I flew home with Blake and Kelly to visit my family. My mom came into town last week. I even got my hair cut and highlighted (gasp).
While I was home in Missouri, I went to Shiloh with Megan. We've been friends forever (literally) and have been going to bars together for many years... years before we were supposed to be allowed in there. I looked around and felt old. Very old.
When we were headed home (by 10pm, as Megan promised me), Ben said something that made me laugh really hard.
I told him to stop making me laugh because I was going to pee in my pants. Not because he was that funny (sorry Ben) but because that's what happens after you have two kids. You pee in your pants.
And maybe that's my learning. Or the story of my life lately. Two kids have a way of not only changing but redefining everything. EVERY-thing. And you have less control over things. Things like bladder control and needing more time in each day.