Tantrums: Not Just for Three Year Olds

When was the last time you threw yourself on your couch and sobbed hysterically? Perhaps you cannot think of a time because you don't have memories of being two or three. Well, the last time I flung myself onto a couch and sobbed hysterically was today. Gut wrenching, makeup sabotaging, freak out the dogs kind of crying. Gemma came running out of her room assuming I was injured in some way. Sweet little soul that she is brought me Kleenex and a band aid. She was really confused why my tears were black. The reason for my tantrum? My dog. You see, I was vacuuming my house when I casually look out my window and see this:

That right there is my beloved lab, Sookie, standing in the fish pond. The dirty, stinky, full of algae and fish pond! Yesterday I gave my 140ish pound pitty a bath because he's allergic to the grass and desperately needed a scrub down. By the end of his bath I was so so tired and worn out I decided Sookie could wait another few days before her bath. So seeing her, standing there for a good ten minutes felt like she was purposefully taunting me. 

"Ha ha ha Mom! You thought you were in the clear today at 4:30. Sucker! should have just given me a bath yesterday Woman! I WILL NOT BE IGNORED!"

In case you forgot or did not know I am twenty seven weeks pregnant. Around 3:30 pm I can no longer stand up straight, I am exhausted and the fact that I am unmedicated becomes clear to family, friends, and other drivers who cross my path.  So really, the only thing that made sense to my poor pregnant worn out brain was to cry. Hard. So I did and it felt good. 

After I had thoroughly worried my three year old I did what Mom's do. I got up, bathed the stupid dog, and ate some chocolate. 

Lets talk about being pregnant for a second. You know those women who joyfully declare their love of being pregnant? Uhm can I have what she's having or can someone just give me a good wink wink after. Because I do not feel that way. I am aware that I do not have difficult pregnancies. I'm not on bed rest, or force feeding myself broth and ice cubes...quite the opposite as I can't seem to stop eating. I still don't like it. I really, really do not like being pregnant. I don't feel glowy, or goddess like, or special. In fact everyone and their dog seems to be pregnant right now posting beautiful glowy pictures on Instagram in bikinis and I look in the mirror and see this:

Minus the blue because I do actually have very clear great skin right now. My hair on the other hand is a different story. We are praying now that some of it comes back. Don't get me wrong. I am so grateful that my body can do this. I can make and grow my family. My heart breaks for friends and family struggling with infertility...I am in no way trying to belittle that struggle with my complaints of discomfort. But damn I am uncomfortable. I feel huge, nothing fits, my back hurts my legs hurt my arms hurt and my anxiety is here to stay because my anxiety drugs aren't super great for my baby. Every time I talk to my Dad on the phone he asks me why I am running....nope dad I am still not a runner I just walker from one end of my house to the other.  My family all deserve purple heart medals for loving me and surviving me the last six months. Bless you.

Joe really gets the brunt of all my feelings. I have a lot of them and you never really know what you are gonna get. It is super fun. I am the Bertie Botts of every flavor emotion. On Wednesday he left for a work trip and I tried really hard to hide the fact that I was puking and sneezing and crying so that he could feel ok with leaving. I to deserve a medal...or new shoes. He has been gone so much lately. Usually I handle his trips with grace and loveliness. After all it means a few nights of falling asleep to Harry Potter audio books, throwing away stuff and redecorating. However, since being pregnant I am incredibly needy. I need to be snuggled and hugged and reassured eight million times a day. We are both looking forward for THIS particular side effect of pregnancy to disappear.

Alright now for some positivity because my Mom always says what you tell your brain to believe it will so here we go. I am already head over heels in love with this baby. I knew he was meant to be before he was even conceived. I knew I was having a boy next. He has had a tentative name for over a year. Naming babies and thinking about babies in not in my nature so I knew this baby was going to be special. He and I seem very in tune with each other. When I laugh he kicks, When I worry I feel slight pressure, When I am jamming to some Metal he goes nuts. He is mine and I cannot wait to hold him and see his little baby face. This pregnancy is speeding by. He will be here in no time. Then I will have TWO kids. Not kid....but kids!

My sweet angel baby Gemma is so excited for her baby brother to get here. She tells me everyday that she is going to be the best big sister ever. I have no doubt about this. In spite of her opinions and strong will she is so loving and tender. Today I let her go to Target and choose and outfit for baby and she thought this was pretty great. We are ready for Baby to get here.

So despite the raging heart burn, and sore everything, our life over here with the Lobsters is beautiful and ideal. I would not change anything about it except my dog swimming in the pond two hours before my violin and piano lessons start. I am embracing my tantrum and applauding myself for getting up and dealing with it instead of locking her outside till Joe gets home. This too shall pass and one day I will look back and miss all of it.

I think it is ok to let go and sob like no one is watching every once in a while as long as you get up, Calm the Crap Down, dance it out, and eat a few Oreos.