Done now

My, it has been awhile since my last post, hasn't it? And since my last comment to any of you. I haven't been utterly swallowed up in toddler hell, I assure you, though at times I've felt awfully close. Just busy with life as mama of three. After around seven weeks, I believe I'm getting the hang of it. Planning dinner before lunchtime helps. And I've found that I better start cooking around 4:00 to be sure that after a gajillion interruptions it might actually be ready by our 6:30 dinnertime. I do laundry less often, but I do enormous quantities of it when it happens. And I've figured out how to wipe Bean's poopy bottom after she visits the potty WHILE I'm nursing her baby sister, thank you very much.

It's definitely busy around here, and I once again celebrate wine o'clock every night to reward myself and, let's be honest, to keep from utterly blowing apart at the end of my very long days.

So given all that, are you surprised that I left the midwives' office last week after my very last pregnancy-related appointment ever in tears? I was surprised. My 6-week check-up this time around marks the end of my baby-making career and it makes me very sad. Do I really want a fourth child? I really don't. I want my body back and I want to believe that Husband and I could have the time and money to travel again one of these days. I also look forward to being the mother of adolescent, then teen-age, then grown-up girls.

But it's still hard to be done with babies.

Hell day

Today was hands down the worst day I've had so far as the mama of three girls instead of two. Bean has been in a foul and obstreperous mood for the past couple of days, and today she got to take it out on the kids in her playgroup for a change instead of on me. I ended up having to haul her away bodily after many warnings for slugging others, snatching toys, screaming in my face, and just general toddler thugishness. You mamas of older children will understand when I say that she was horrible today and it was just awful to have to spend the day with her.

A two-hours-earlier-than-usual nap didn't improve her mood, and on top of that, Sister came home from school feeling cranky her own self. Add a gassy, screaming baby to the mix and I was almost in tears by the time Husband came home. Especially as he was planning to spend the evening playing poker with some friends.

When he saw what sort of state I was in, though, he called his friend and said he couldn't come after all. I tried to insist that he go and that I would be fine once I got dinner into them, but he saw through my rather thin protestations, bless him.

And then I was in tears, so relieved to be rescued from mama hell.

A better butt

I've been feeling like such a fat slob lately since the only pre-pregnancy clothes I can wear are elastic-waisted knit items. I've never been someone who felt comfortable leaving the house in workout clothes, or anything that resembled such (since--who are we kidding?--when's the last time I worked out?).

So even though I still have around 15 pounds to lose, and buying larger clothes is ultimately a waste of money, I went to Ann Taylor Loft yesterday, minus children.

I tried on many, MANY things before I found a pair of dark wash jeans and navy blue pants that fit me well. They were 2 sizes bigger than is normal for me and a bit pricey, but I bought them anyway.

I'm wearing the jeans today and feel...great! Not like a fat slob at all because only I know what size they are, and Husband has told me they're "hot." Good Husband.

I shouldn't be so shallow, I know. I shouldn't be obsessing over my post-pregnancy size and shape with so much else to think about--the possibility of a female or a black president! My beautiful new baby that I adore! The huge amount of packaging and paper we threw out after Christmas that's going straight into the landfill or into the overflowing recycling center's dumpsters!

But I care. And flattering clothes, big and expensive though they may be, make me feel good. So maybe now I can move on mentally, huh?

This new life

I've said to people who've asked how I'm doing lately that this 3-kid gig is easier than I thought it would be. I think I was psyching myself up for a brutal new reality that would have me chewing my fingernails, grabbing for the gin, and yelling my head off all day or something. In truth, our new sweetie is an easy, mellow baby whose needs are very easy to interpret and satisfy. Give her a clean diaper, a belly full of milk, and some time spent ON you everyday listening to your heart beat and she's happy indeed.

Which is not to say that this is easy exactly. I had a good friend over yesterday and felt like my new baby-full life must look pretty frantic from the outside. Maybe that's just because Bean was going nuts that day, chucking toys at Sister's head, yelling at me when I reprimanded her, spitting food out onto her lunch plate, etc. She generally chooses to do this sort of thing when I'm distracted by something else, of course--nursing, talking on the phone, talking to someone besides her, merely thinking about a sewing project. So finding time to blog is difficult now. Bean has been asking several times a day lately, "What are we gonna do NOW?" when there's a perceived lull, which means no seizing a few quiet moments to electronically scribble down a few thoughts for me. I'm only able to do it now because she happens to be napping at the same time as Husband and her baby sister.

Anyways.

This is not a complaint. I always have the thought lurking in my mental background that this is the last time I'll do this--the last time I'll have a sweet little baby to take care of and the last time that Bean will be this crazy, sassy, tornado of a toddler. It makes me feel a little sad, a little old, and a little less likely to indulge in a temper tantrum my own self.

Most days.

Hungry

I've got a batch of chocolate candy cane ice cream whirring away in my electric ice cream machine just now. And, having vowed to get back in shape this year, it was all I could do not to guzzle a big mugful of un-frozen ice cream a little while ago.

I am starving today.

I'm not actually walking around with an empty belly here, mind you, since as a nursing mama I realize the importance of continuing to eat well to make sure our littlest girl gets what she needs in liquid form. I assure you, I'm still eating plenty. I just want some calories, dammit! A single day of eating flaxseed cereal with skim milk and bananas for breakfast, vegetable-barley soup and a cheese quesadilla for lunch, and no, repeat NO, brownies out of the freezer or any of the chocolate we have lying around or even a freaking gummy worm has me thinking of nothing but what high-calorie high-fat snack I could possibly justify right now.

If I can hold off til after dinner, maybe I'll have just a little cup of homemade ice cream though. It's not good for the mama to be utterly deprived, right?

Getting rid of this 20 pounds will be hard.