Tuesday, March 29, 2016

May 28, 2016

People keep asking me "how I'm feeling." Hmm. Well. I'm pretty sure I just threw out my back trying to shave my leg, if that gives you any indication. You should try it. Fill a beach ball with sand, stuff it under your shirt and then try to shave. It's great entertainment. Until the ball starts pulverizing your insides because you are squishing it. 

I can't do the most mundane, simple tasks. It's VERY annoying. This is my FOURTH pregnancy.  I was in the rafters wiring and hanging sheet rock with my last three kids. (Because there is a strange correlation with me wanting to remodel immediately after getting two lines on a pee stick).

This pregnancy has been an absolute DOOZY. I had to leave the Dollar General after carrying around a Root Beer because my contractions had me on my knees. (Again- other three pregnancies- carrying SHEET ROCK; this pregnancy can't carry a TWO LITER).

I think I caused this. First, we planned to return to Mexico to have our baby. After doing some research, I realized we'd have to stay a month or two for all the paper work to come in just so we could LEAVE the country WITH our baby.  (Plus go a month before the baby since flying is restricted when you're about to pop). We aren't in any position to leave for three months with our businesses so we had to scratch that. (But not before we researched driving an RV across the Texas border. Apparently, from the mouth of a native with family living in one of the border towns, that is suicide).

So on to my next, glorious plan. I've always wanted to have a baby at home. That's weird, yes. I'm well aware. But it would make for an awesome blog. The way I figure it, I pushed twice with Brighton before he came out and Boeing literally slid out before I even got a chance to push. I figure this one will fall out when I'm walking to the fridge. (And I have nurse friends. For some bizarre reason they are NOT very encouraging. Something about wanting the baby to live). 

BUT I forgot about the contractions. I was induced with the last two kiddos, and the epidural made my deliveries easy, cheesy. (Besides Starling and cronies eating dough nuts in front of me while I was only allowed ice. That made me a tad bit homicidal. Lucky for them I was paralyzed).

I have NEVER had contractions like the ones I've had during this pregnancy except for actual LABOR with Brooklyn when I thought I was going to kill over DEAD before they'd even admit me. So maybe I needed a reminder that I am a BIG fan of DRUGS. I still have seven more weeks before this baby is due, and I'm already daydreaming about the epidural.

To keep us occupied, since I find things like walking difficult, I signed my kids up for t-ball and gymnastics. I mean- why not commit myself to as much taxi driving as possible? Nothing like screaming sweet nothings at the steering wheel of my car while my inner womb feels like its ripping apart. It's such a normal occurrence,  my kids don't even think it's odd. Boeing will randomly grab his stomach and proclaim, "AHHH!!! Tractions!"

I have to say I am VERY impressed with Brighton in t-ball. He has completely surpassed my expectations. (Which wasn't hard to do since I thought he'd be wrapped around my leg like a spider vein, crying, and refusing to go on to the field). He actually participates and LIKES it. He doesn't "get" the concept of t-ball, really, but I wasn't expecting a miracle. He had his first game and he stood on the pitcher's mound yelling, "Hit it to me! Hit it to me!"  And when he wasn't playing in the dirt, he grabbed a few balls. Proud Mama, right here.

And Brooklyn LOVES gymnastics. Of course, she loves everything. She also loved dance where they put her center and BACK trying to hide her during the performance while she executed a self-invented abstract rendition of the ACTUAL dance alongside her peers.

I think extracurriculars are insanely overpriced. I have to pay a monthly tuition PLUS a yearly MEMBERSHIP FEE? (They aren't satisfied with the arm and a leg. They want both kidneys, too).    
Good grief, I'm not sending my kid to the Olympics. Isn't there like a "I just want the kid to be able to do a cartwheel" discount class?

Boeing starts gymnastics tomorrow. He's the only one I actually feel like I am making an INVESTMENT in. This is like paying for preventative health care. As of now, he is flipping off everything he can climb and I would prefer him to NOT die. I was promised he would be taught how to land without breaking his legs (or neck) and safe ways to perform all his favorite tricks. If a teacher can miraculously guide Boeing's insane obsession with break dancing to safer/ or at least trained techniques, by ALL means, have at it.

Brighton watched Brooklyn and now he wants to do gymnastics, too. (He wants to jump into the foam pit. Let's just say it for what it is). But unless I find more members of my body to part with, my kids are going to have to do one sport at time. Getting a whopping $5 sibling discount just doesn't cut it.

Since my life is boring and I've found homes for all of my foster cats, Starling, who doesn't even like cats and complains about Jax, the one we have, jovially accepted a pregnant cat for me. The cat is hormonal, stalks around yowling, purring and hissing at the same time. She curls around Boeing's legs like she loves him, then threatens to shred his face when he looks at her. She adores Brooklyn, and then DID slap her in the face, but only because she was mad at Jax and Brooklyn was the closest scapegoat. She wants inside. She wants outside. She wants to be social. She wants to be left alone. She loves you. She wants to kill you. 

As I observed her insanity, I realized she is ME. In cat form.

And if expecting a baby and a litter of kittens isn't exciting enough, we have started the eternally LOOONG process of renewing our foster care license.

Since we were out of the country for a year, we have to start ALL OVER again. And wouldn't you know ALL the classes are in April and May. So I have to convince my doctor to let me get induced on a Monday so I can finish my last class on a Thursday. Otherwise it'll take months and months of WAITING until they schedule another class. And NO; I'm not getting new kids the week after I have a baby. Trust me, at the rate DHS rolls, it'll be several months before they process all the paper work, do a home study, and get us re-licensed. And then we'll play it by ear.

Everyone acts like having a new baby is the hard part. But, FOR ME, after being a whale balancing on stork legs for nine months, a new born is a welcomed RELIEF. I can PUT her DOWN to bend OVER. I can walk from one side of the room to the the other without wincing. The BABY weighs MUCH less than the STOMACH I have to lug around every day. And that's AFTER I turn her into mini sumo wrestler.  

There is truth to the saying, "After three, what's one more?" I'd take that a step further to say, no kid has anything on Boeing Johnson. I have fostered HOW many kids now? And again, I reiterate, NONE of them have anything on Boeing Johnson in ANY department. 

He can stretch a nerve like a new rubber band. Brookie and Bry need help getting drinks. Boeing needs help getting rocks unstuck from his nostrils. He's just a special breed of human. 

There is a reason he was born so darn cute. 

SO THAT'S a LITTLE bit of what's going on with us. Same-o, same-o. 

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