No Surrender
I officially quit my job as mom over this past weekend. I told my husband that it was over. Oh, I would still hang around doing the wifey thing and playing with and kissing the babies, but as far as making my two year old eat his dinner, getting him to stop sticking his hands into his 4-times-a-day poopy diaper, getting hit with plastic toys, etc.; it's over. Done. No more. Get someone else to do it. I don't want to be the yeller and the disciplinarian. Trouble is, there's no one else to do it, since my husband leaves before we wake and arrives after we're asleep at least 4 days a week.
"So, you want to hire a nanny?" was my husband's response.
YES! But God knows there is no way that's going to happen. That's for people with much more money than we will ever have.
So we're going through the terrible twos. We aren't the first and we won't be the last. The problem is that while Thomas is going through this phase of learning how to behave around other human beings, I have to be so damned mature all of the time. I don't think I can handle it.
Sure, you have to be mature to breast feed and get up with an infant four times a night without tearing your hair out. A two-year old just takes it all to another level. It can really test all of your resources as a parent, and it makes all of the mistakes of your own parents painfully obvious. If they hadn't screwed me up so bad, I wouldn't be like this, right?
Having children can bring out the very best in you. Funny thing is, it can also bring out your very worst. And in one single day you might have to witness both of those things, and come to terms with it. Kind of paradoxical, isn't it?
My resignation was not accepted by the Powers that Be. Not any of them. I was immediately thrown back into the fire. I am glad they did not accept. Usually.
On the pregnancy front--I had my 34 week exam today. The doc wants me to have an ultrasound before my 36 week appointment so they can see how big the baby is. If it looks like he's gonna be a biggie, they may induce me at 38 weeks....if I want.
I don't know, do I want? Thomas was already 7 pounds at 36 weeks, and ended up being over 10. The memory of the tearing doesn't really make me look forward to doing it again. But then, there's no saying I won't rip just as bad with an 8 pounder.
38 weeks is just over 3 weeks away!
I'm gonna go on google now and try to find the pros and cons of being induced. Anyone know either way??
posted by ErinMary @ 9:59 PM
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