Sometimes I wonder what I was thinking going for another baby. My gurney was being wheeled to my hospital room with a bunch of my kin and my doctor hovering along when my doctor quipped that I had been a good patient and she hoped there would be more babies to come, whereupon I vehemently replied, “Never again!” Famous last words and all that because here I am, pregnant again and quite determined to go for a natural birth. It’s not only the pain of labor, of course. It’s the lack of sleep, the paranoia over SIDS and other baby scares, perpetually smelling of eau de spit-up, the seemingly nonstop supply of soiled diapers, going through the dropping and throwing stage (they think it’s a fun game and you just consider the picking up as doing crunches and remember in time to bend from the knees), the exhaustion that is weaning, the frustration that is potty training (before which you probably experience having your little one hand you a little round pebble that turns out to be her poop), etc.
Marguerite is five years old in September. I have just begun to relax. She’s finally doing stuff for herself and by herself. I can, you know, sit without having to get up for 30 minutes straight. Well, as the saying goes, there’s no rest for the weary (I’m sure I’m not wicked anymore), because I’m about to go through everything again. I’m supposed to know more this time, like everything is fair game to little hands, so put all the breakables away or out of reach. Laminate flooring install sounds pretty good as you know the kind of abuse the floor gets. Or the walls and other surfaces, for that matter. Stickers and scribbles, you know. And maybe some dried oatmeal. How about an extra pair of hands for blocking bacteria-laden objects that the imp is aiming at her mouth? Also know that babies have a particular genius for opening things, especially those prescription bottles that you yourself embarrassingly have never managed to figure out how to open.
The more I go into disaster after disaster, the more excited I get for this baby to come out. Because, you know, it’s really worth all the aggravation. And if you really think about it – I mean, really think about it (you have to be a mom and in the right frame of mind) - what I described sounds rather fun and amusing. But you should know that people have always said that I have a curious sense of humor.