Today, I nearly blew chunks of Kung Pao chicken all over my computer screen when I read Traci's comment from yesterday's post:
I have been lurking for a while, following to get some tips on how to handle kid number 2. I have a 17 month old and am due end of August. Just found out it is kid number 2 AND 3 in there. yikes! Maybe you'll have the same surprise!
I had my 24 week appointment today. I've still only gained 4 lbs, yet my doctor observed that I am "measuring big" (and she even measured twice because she thought she got it wrong). Realistically, I am not having twins, but I did tell X that maybe he should bring a wheelbarrow to the ultrasound on Friday because if they happen to discover that NewKid does indeed have a partner in crime, we could sure use all those bricks emanating from my ass. I've been wanting to lay brick over our patio for awhile anyway. I'd like to send special laser-darted smooches to Traci for sending bad twin karma my way. Bad Traci! Bad Traci! But I jest.......
Oh and also, regarding today's appointment? It's difficult enough to dispense Ye Olde Urine Sample while 24 weeks pregnant. For extra kicks, try doing so while vigorously swatting away a 17 month old's "helping hand". Go ahead!! As Traci can probably attest, someone's coming outta the bathroom a bit pissed*.
Anyway, I am sorry to disappoint Traci as I feel like the very last soul on earth right now who should be offering advice on how to handle more than one child. It's been a very rough week and for no particular reason. My life is really easy. I keep reminding myself of that fact in the hopes that I start to believe it. I'm really, really tired and Arun is a 21.5 ton... er, pound....17- month old toddler who veers between running around like a banshee to all of a sudden wanting to be carried, needing a snuggle or demanding to sit on my rapidly disappearing lap. All of these things are little more taxing to do when you are already lumbering around. But I wouldn't want it any other way. I am glad my children will be so close in age. There's a reason why my sister had her children so close in age as well. I am 5 years older than my sister (15 older than my younger sister, 17 older than my brother). When my sister was born, I thought she was cool for all of like 10 minutes, then the shiny new coat wore off. Quickly. I came to the rapid realization that I had been dethroned. I was no longer the Special One and my sister had replaced me. I grew into a bitter, mean, jealous little girl. I made it a personal mission to reject her as I felt my mom and beloved Olathe Grandma had rejected me (for the record, my dad even acknowledges this favoritism was a problem and this is not something I creatively made up all on my own). Sadly, the effects of this favoritism still linger to this day in various ways. I still feel guilty for being such a shitty older sister. My sister harbors her own little issues of having grown up with someone she adored, but from whom she could never gain acceptance. Fortunately, when I went away to college, we started growing closer and now, she is one of my very best friends. I would do just about anything for her (including, but not limited to, drunkenly confronting military police on a base in Hawaii by loudly questioning the fact that they are "fucking in charge of national security but they can't fucking tell me where my sister is?" Nope, I wasn't arrested, thankfully and miraculously. Ahem.) Anyway, now that we are adults, we can confront our childhood for what it was and move on. We have many, many years left to be sisters and we both don't want to waste any time on the past. So, no. I don't regret having my children so close in age.
I hear consistently from other mothers who are ahead of me in this Wham!Bam! Game of Procreation that it is really, really* rough in the beginning, but that it pays off when they are a little older. And that in general, follows my sMothering Mantra of "this is temporary". It helps knowing that someday there won't be a weepy toddler clinging to my pant leg. A thought that simultaneously inspires me and saddens me. And THAT is what gets me through the really crappy weeks.
*Pun actually intended.
**Notice how many "really"s are there? Add a few more.