I didn't actually know that I had one inside me. But I do. Miss Hannigan (of Annie fame - come on, you remember her!) is alive and well and living deep in the most bitter corner of my soul, and boy did she rear her mussy little head today. I don't think I'd better give you all the gory details. I'll just say this. How is it possible that the more pregnant I get and the worse I feel, the more my kids need me and are less and less able to help or entertain themselves at all? Can they not find one tiny bit of compassion, empathy or understanding inside themselves? I know, I know. Of course not. Nor should I really expect them to. (Hey there, 3-year-old daughter, let's close our eyes a do a little maternity visualization so you can feel my pain!) It would be nice, though, wouldn't it? I'm sure that they can feel what's coming and have already begun the rat race for mom's attention. Elbows are flying. I guess my question is, with how grouchy I was today, why on earth do they still want my company at all? (Oh. One other question. WHY do my kids like to join me in the bathroom? Can anyone explain this phenomenon? You'd think that's the last place they'd want to be with the things that go on in there, but no, they're pounding down the door. I guess it has something to do with getting their grips on the last shred of dignity I'm still clinging to.)Well, I should shut up now. Do a little blessing counting. Like the fact that no one got out of bed tonight once they were tucked in. Like that fact that no one actually called me 'mean mommy,' or said, 'you're just like Cruella DeVil' or any of the other things that were running through my head. Or the fact that I probably won't hear the dreaded, "Mommmm-eeeeeee!!!!????!!!!" until tomorrow. Okay, let's face it, there's a good chance I'll still hear that tonight, but maybe it will be from only one of them at a time instead of that trick they have where one of them says it, then starts telling me what they need me to do, and in the middle of the sentence, the other one starts off, like they're singing a round of Row Row Your Boat or something. I think they practice that technique while I'm not around.
Okay. Deep breaths. I feel better. Well, better minus the perma-contraction I've had all day today. Time for a drink of water and a little shut eye.
'Night!
7 comments:
Hang in there! I love Miss Hannegan, all the same.
I think I need to copy and paste this onto my blog, it sounds exactly how I feel.
Not to much longer right? You can do it!
Poor Sweetie! Some days...weeks...months..years are just like that. As my friend recently reminded me, we are spiritual beings having a human experience. You are a wonderful mommy and I believe in you. I want to come visit you soon and bring you a baby gift. It's almost done.
I love the picture, it's a perfect visual of how I feel way too often. And I must admit that I'm sort of glad to know that you have an inner Miss Hannigan too! I'd hate to be the only one. I was telling Rob (who is out of town) that this would be the longest two weeks of my life, and he said "what about the last two weeks of pregnancy?" I couldn't argue with that. Hang in there.
Miss Hannigan visits here often, too! I've been known to sing "little boys, little boys, everywhere I look, I can smell them!"
Oh the bathroom thing. I don't get it either! Lucy brings me books and wants to sit on my lap so I can read to her while in the bathroom...umm, no thanks!
Hang in there, you're almost there!
I have totally been there! And I so don't understand the bathroom thing either! Come on, people!
Rachel needs a girls' night. I'll be right there with a Diet Coke and some chocolate. Everything's gonna be o.k. :)
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