I've got to make this quick because I've got to get the day started. Currently my children are on the back deck in their pajamas blowing bubbles making all kinds of noise. In my mind it is payback to the college students across the street who were partying into the night last night and now are trying to sleep. Good luck on that one with the Alley kids outside.
Back to the point. I have hit 30 weeks pregnant and now the countdown begins. I have made my "get done before the baby comes" list and will now begin to feel the push and reality of welcoming a baby into the family. There is something about counting down the last 10 weeks that puts me into overdrive.
I also, of course, am experiencing all kinds of pregnancy fun. Like tiny droplets of water hitting me in the face in the shower after they bounce off my stomach. The return of my love/hate relationship with TUMS. The 10 point turn when trying to go from one side to the other while lying in bed. The major plumbing problem when it comes to urination. (Someone is sitting on my hose and putting a major kink in it!) The inability to "squeeze by" anyone or anything. The small groans that escape my lips despite my desire to hold them in. Need I go on?
And finally, the fuel for this blog, the dreams. A little insomnia, a few crazy dreams, the inability to fall asleep because I'm running through possible birth scenarios where I don't make it to the hospital in time...lots happens when my head hits the pillow.
Two nights ago I had a dream in which I had a sleepover for all my girlfriends. It was at the house where I grew up. I'm not sure what we did, but at some point in the night Jimmy arrived in a full sized yellow school bus to take us all somewhere. As he backed out of the driveway he was waving at my parents, showing off a bit, when he slammed into a big building behind us. I was so mad at him! "You could have hurt my friends!" I said.
Then, last night, I had a revelation in my sleep about Jimmy's perfect eyesight. I told him that his perfect eyesight was a gift from God and that he should be using it in his work. So I suggested that he go down to the greyhound dog track and see if he could get a job watching the races.
These are just a couple of the crazy dreams. But I realized something yesterday as I related the bus dream to Jimmy. Out of all these dreams I've had, they all have something in common. In all the dreams, I never have any children.
I love adhesives. I even like the word adhesive. If I could outfit an art studio I'd really only want school supplies. Paper, scissors, glue. I love glue. It takes something flimsy and makes it sturdy. It takes two things and makes them one. Adhere something. It will make you feel better. It is therapeutic.
Sometimes I feel as though I am glue. Around here, the mom makes things stick. When I am not doing my job, things tend to be flimsy and unstuck. I would like to say that I am a rich, deep yellow wood glue. There is nothing more beautiful and reliable. But lately, I am a glue stick that is almost gone and has had the lid left off for a while. Nothing is more frustrating. You need to stick something together. You reach for your glue stick. It is partially dried up and almost gone. You try to make it work. And it's just not enough.
Now into my final trimester of this my fifth pregnancy I am a sad, sad, glue stick around the house. I have a hard time bending over. I don't like to stand for long periods of time. I have a small amount of pain all the time, thus making me grumpy and short-tempered. I am trying to be positive. I want to be glossy modge podge. Making everything shine and coating everything with an addictive smelling odor everyone loves. But I am nothing sticky. I am feeling used up and the house is suffering the consequences.
I want to write a blog about how wonderfully cute and precious and excellent life is. And when I choose to focus on that, I can. And it is. But when I lie in bed at night I think about glue. How I love it. I love being the glue. But I've run out and I'm not going to be able to make it to the store to replenish my supply until after this baby comes out. Then, I'm going to get much stickier again. I will move past this unsticky season. Until then, I'll squeeze out what gluey-ness I have left and try to be thankful I can still make some things stick. And when I get down, I'll get out the Elmer's and give it a squeeze. Because I love adhesives.