I think
I mentioned that I have been super-duper tired and unmotivated lately. To clear things up...there is a reason.
We are expecting a 6th little Melton.
First trimesters are my nemesis. I think I would take the extra 20 lbs and stress-incontinence of the 8th month any day over feeling like I have mononucleosis for 3 months. I can't really complain - my pregnancies aren't so bad compared to a lot of women I know. I haven't ever been nauseous for 9 whole months or had my feet swell or had serious complications (knock on wood). I gotta tell you though, doing this at 35/36 is way different than at 20-something. I can feel the drain more. It's weird. There's something a little sobering about realizing that my body won't always respond effortlessly to the demands I make on it. And the realization that this is the end of the road for me as far as child-bearing. I don't know. I think a lot of women make that decision without a lot of sadness. It's not that I want to have a lot more kids or something. (This is where you might smirk sarcastically because ... we already have a bunch of kids. Believe me, we've heard it all.) That's not it. It's closing the door on this phase of my life. That is tough. So even if we had decided to be "done" with 1 or 2, the decision would feel the same to me. Kind of a satisfied, but semi-sad - "OK, this is it."
So. I'm struggling to keep up with life these days.
This is how things went down this morning / afternoon.
6:30 AM - drowsy, drag myself to the living room to read scriptures with the kids (Mike catching up on z's after working late). If the kids can show up so can I. Read. Prayer. Make scrambled eggs and toasted English muffins, melon for breakfast. Talk about stuff with the kids. Shoosh them a bunch of times so they don't wake up Sully or Mike.
7:30 AM - coat over jammies, fire up the X-wing in the garage, load kids with backpacks & lunches (hoping they actually brushed teeth) - drive them to school, discussing the fall of the Roman empire with Jessie as we go. Drop off at 7:45 AM. Drive home, let the Space Donkey out of his kennel, feed him. Walk zoned-out into the house. Sully is awake in his room. *sigh* Get him a sippy of milk, let him down, hope he'll stay out of trouble. Drop back into bed next to Mike (he's kept the bed warm for me - how thoughtful.). Sully climbs up between us, lays there sipping and snuggling. He needs a diaper change - but I am WAY too tired to care. He climbs down at some point. I am unconscious for 2 HOURS. Seriously? I wake up with a jerk at 10:00 AM. I run to find Sully - contentedly watching PBS (did I turn that on for him?). I apologize to him for making him wait for his breakfast. Into the kitchen to make him an egg-McMelton - I notice he has pulled a stool to the counter and dug through the Halloween candy bowl. I see the remains of at least 5 or 6 pieces of candy that he has fed himself for breakfast. I am not mad at him. I apologize again for being up late. He must have been hungry (plus, candy would be his first choice any day for breakfast). I make him breakfast and he eats a little...mostly he wants a drink of water. I would too if I ate that much candy first thing in the morning. Poor kid.
Late start - so I don't expect much from the day. Do some yoga stretch (part of pregnancy for me is sometimes-severe sciatic nerve problems - my dad calls it psychotic nerve) - ouch. Shower. Say good-bye to Mitch-darling.
Wanting to make-up for my morning neglect, I arrange to take Sully over to play with his cousins. I help Holly rake leaves at Mom's. We have a pleasant picnic lunch on the grass (it was 60 degrees today).
2:30 PM It's time to pick the kids up from school. Sully throws a huge fit when we have to leave. But he's asleep by the time we pull into the carpool line at the school. I wait. This is my only chance to make some progress on Aron Ralston's book, Between a Rock and a Hard Place, that I've been anxious to finish.
I break up the usual number of in-car squabbles on the way home, crank up the 311. At home I get kids going with homework, piano practice, cover a math text book with a brown paper grocery sack for Jess. (I can't believe I remembered that skill.)
I yawn all afternoon.
It's been sort of survival like this the past several weeks - being fatigued so much of the time and a little nauseous. My running has all but come to a stop (I got out earlier this week once for a very short jaunt). So I feel extra sluggy.
Still, everything is great. My energy will return. And more importantly, we are grateful and happy about the little person who will be coming to us. The kids are busting-the-seams excited about it. I don't think they've ever been more stoked about a new brother or sister. Maybe because they know this will be the last one they will get.
