Wednesday, January 30, 2013

One Year Ago...

I found out that I was knocked up. Again. It's so funny because We had come off of a horribly rough month filled with sleepless nights, diarrhea, hacking up lungs and injuries. And I remember being so God-awful tired at the end of the month. I would fall deep asleep by 7:30 on the couch (Haha, this is when The Barracuda's bedtime was 7 PM. Hahaha!) and haul my exhausted ass upstairs only to plant face down on my bed so tired that I couldn't even be bothered to wash my face or brush my teeth. I know, gross, right? Don't judge. I think I actually accused The Bear of putting roofies in my nighttime cocktails.

I remember working a horribly long weekend of night shifts and I was so exhausted come Monday morning that I begged The Bear (who was on vacation that week) to watch The Barracuda so I could nap. I mean, I didn't really have to beg--he's pretty awesome about helping me get rest. Probably because he knows how horrible I am without sleep and he just doesn't want to deal with me in that state. Anywhoodle, I remember napping and then waking up and thinking, "Shoot. Wasn't I supposed to get my period?" I had just started to become semi regular again. The Barracuda was fully weaned. I had a box of tests in the bathroom closet because I had decided to not go back on hormonal birth control. I peed on a stick, and voila! The digital test told me that I was pregnant. I didn't believe it and I proceeded to pee on about a million other sticks--all telling me that I was pregnant. And then it was all clicking in to place; the extreme exhaustion (attributed to a toddler and night shift), aversion to alcohol (not that strange), hyper emotional (kind of my baseline) and it all suddenly made sense: Fetus on board.

This is such a fond memory for me. A memory that I often play over and over again in my head in the middle of the night or when I hold my baby boy first thing in the morning. I think the best part of that memory is the shock and surprise. We wanted The Barracuda so much and we were waiting for her anxiously. Tooter came here all on his own. I think one of my co-workers explained it the best (she, too, had a love child); "While not at all unloved, he was completely unplanned." Happy memories, Tooter. And thanks for sleeping through most of the night ;)

Monday, January 14, 2013

The Giving Tree...

Is currently The Barracuda's favorite book. I'm shocked by how well she sits and just lets me read the book to her. I am also astounded by how much of the book she has absorbed into her little memory. She will sit with the book and pretend to read it. She will say, "Boy. Tree. Leaves. Apples. Swing. Money. Happy." Almost like she is going through the whole story in her little mind. And she will flip the book over and say, "Who's that?" pointing to Shel Silverstein, who (no offense) looks super scary. And his head shot takes up the WHOLE BACK COVER.

It's kinda funny, The Bear and I were discussing that book this evening. It's kind of a euphemism or allegory or something (my English Lit skills are lacking) for parenting. Being a mother, or a parent, to a toddler is really like being the tree. You give and give and give to make your kids happy. You will give until you absolutely have no more to give just to see the smiles and to receive the hugs. And your sweet toddler just takes and takes. She just takes all your apples, cuts off your branches and makes a freakin' boat out of your trunk until you are just a sad old stump.

Maybe that sounds super sad...but it's not. Somehow, I'm just happy to do it. I just love her so much that I just want her to be happy. Because even though she hits, and kicks and slaps...nothing beats her smiles and hugs.