It’s here…the need to nest has arrived and I’m rolling out the red carpet. I remember during the first pregnancy, I suddenly had the urge to organize all my clothes and my husband’s too for that matter. I wanted to organize utensil drawers…and anything else I could get my hands on. Someone told me my nesting phase was started. I didn’t know what the heck that meant. I’m not a bird. But then I learned it’s the urge pregnant women get to get things organized. It supposedly helps us prepare and feel ready for the baby. I read up on it and learned that it sometimes can be a sign that labor isn’t too far off. But, some women do get it early on in their pregnancy too, and maybe some women don’t get it at all.
You’ve heard the saying, you have to see it to believe it. Well, I kinda feel that way when it comes to pregnancy. Now that I’m five months along, although it’s round two, I think I’ve finally realized it’s the real deal. It may sound dumb, but it’s true. For some reason, the second time around is different, both mentally and physically. When you first find out you’re pregnant, you can’t see the proof. Sure you may feel it with the morning sickness (yeah, never had that! ha ha) and other aches and pains. You may feel a little run down, but your clothes still fit and for the most part people can’t even tell. Although there are the few who always say they can. They either have some kind of spidey sense or they are great BS’ers. Some people may tell you you’re glowing, but I think that’s a crock too.
It’s been a long day. I’ve been up for almost 18 hours. I just want to lay on the couch and catch up on my three episodes of “Glee” that are in the DVR. But, that’s just not going to happen. It’s the witching hour. Moms, Dads, you know what I’m talking about. It’s the time just after your child’s bath, just before bedtime, when they have somehow gotten their second wind and are ready to party like Steven Tyler from Aerosmith. It’s the time when your speed is set more like Barry Manilow’s “Mandy.” It’s time for bed…A.K.A. mom’s chill time.
I try to give the “let’s chill” signal by dimming the lights and getting my daughter a little snack. We do a little reading which is always the same book because that’s what she loves. I wish she would realize it’s no longer Valentine’s Day and Elmo has figured out who sent him “this beautiful valentine.” But that’s o.k. It’s really cute the way she gets excited each time we read it like she’s never heard the story before. Sometimes this works, other times, I try to lay down while she tries to pull me off the coach with all her little might. She gets frustrated. I get frustrated. She starts to cry. I feel like I want to cry. What on God’s green earth could you possible want? You’re clean. You’ve being fed. Most times, you’ve had a pretty good day with lots of playing and attention. Can’t Mommy just chillax? Ha! Yeah, No.
Since I wake up for work when most people are enjoying their sleep, my couch/DVR time is really limited and precious.Sometimes I get up to see what she wants, other times I just let her work it out herself. Meantime, I’ve paused “Glee” on the DVR for the third time. If my husband is home, he can see the frustration building. I can feel horns coming out of head and the female dog inside me is barking to come out. It kinda feels like Michael J. Fox in “Teen Wolf.” (but not nearly as funny) You just can’t control it. And bam…it happens. I start yelling like a crazy woman. My husband sometimes just sits there, other times tries to take control of our daughter and tells me to calm down. My daughter usually just stands there and looks at me, probably wondering what my problem is. There just comes a time of the day/night when you can’t take much more. Then of course, I feel bad for losing my temper. But, I just wanted to watch my “Glee”. Is that too much to ask?