My friend Jami recently commented that her doctor had explained that all the extra pre-term labor she was experiencing with her fourth had to do with the fact that the more pregnancies you have the more “irritable” your uterus gets. Well. That makes sense. If I was a uterus and someone kept forcing me to house a kicking, growing baby, and to stretch like 8 million times my normal size, I’d get pretty irritable too. . . .
Unfortunately, as Jami also pointed out, all those contractions with no baby made for more than just an irritable uterus! Funny. Earlier today I was feeling quite calm and thinking, “You know, usually I am so anxious and tense waiting for labor these last few weeks of pregnancy, but this time I feel totally fine and patient. Nine or so days is nothing. Either way baby will likely be here in two short weeks, and I have plenty of happy and busy things to be doing in the mean time. What was my problem before? I can wait just fine. Piece of cake. Baby will come when he will come.”
Then, two clean bathrooms later, I was a totally different person. My thoughts were more like, “I am so sick of doing stuff. I don’t want to clean anymore . . . or relax . . . or ANYTHING. Am I just going to be pregnant and wondering for NINE MORE DAYS!!? Clearly that is ridiculously impossible. I am going to go mad.” And then I didn’t even clean bathroom number three. Shouldn’t TWO clean bathrooms be good enough for this baby?
On a positive note: it turns out that it is totally fine that I am a bad mother who rarely does crafts, etc. with my kids. If I did, well, I might tell them to make a butterfly or a rainbow or some such. Then there would be no . . . armadillos.
As I was getting the older kids ready for school this morning, Penny was, as is often the case, snipping and cutting and taping with blue painter’s tape. When I saw what she had done later, I said, “Penny! That looks like an armadillo!”
“That’s because it is,” she replied.
We’ve never ever lived in any armadillo country. I don’t know that I have ever actually seen a real armadillo. “How did you know what an armadillo looked like?” I asked.
“I just knowed” was her reply.
So, clearly it has worked out just fine that I have left them to their own tiny little devices.