Yes, that's a Monty Python quote. So sue me. I was talking with a friend tonight. She asked how my walking was going. I jokingly said "Walking? What is this Walking you are referring to?" She of coarse was referring to my plan to go walking with MF Jenn and the kids two or three times a week at the local walking/biking trail. It didn't happen. The days we planned on going didn't work out for one reason or another. And, No, I didn't do any exercises to compensate for my lack of plans.
I told the woman I was chatting with that I'm either not motivated, or I just don't care. Which in the same sense, boil down to the exact same thing. She told me that maybe I should find out why I'm not motivated. I said that maybe it's because I'm so damn tired all the time, or that I'm too busy from taking care of the kids and working and keeping the house from falling down around my head that I just don't care about being fat and lazy right now.
To which she brings up pregnancy. And my lack thereof. I have this theory that what is keeping me from becoming pregnant again is my weight. That simple. My life has stabilized out dramatically since I was younger. My hormones and all of that are just fine, they did the tests to prove it. Other than my living situation, which is greatly improved, the only thing that has changed since my younger days (aside from my age) is my weight. As my age has gone up, so have the numbers on the scale.
While this tidbit is personally depressing, because fat is not cool and I don't view it as sexy in the least, it's not a downer in the way I thought it would be.
While I would love any baby I was blessed to have, I realize, that right now, a baby would not be the best thing for my family as a whole. I need to adapt to the homeschooling. The kids need to adapt to it as well. We need to find our financial rock and glue our asses to it. Things like that.
I've never stopped to think about not having another baby. Before now it's always been "when we have another..." However, it has slowly become "We are done. What is next?"
There is some sadness there. And envy when I see other women who are pregnant, or announce they are pregnant. I think that will abate a bit once the time that our baby should have been due has past. Which, sadly enough, is in this next few weeks. I think it was some time between the 25th of July and the 11th of August.
I'm becoming more comfortable with the notion of selling all of our baby things. A small part of me keeps saying "Once all the baby stuff is gone, that's when you become pregnant" and has hope. A bigger part of me says "Oh fuck! That would totally suck and COMPLETELY piss me off!" And understandably so.
I am not ready for Jason to do anything permanent, at least not yet. Maybe next year I will be. Why do I want something permanent done to one of us eventually? Because when I'm 40 I don't want a surprise like Jason was. While I love my husband dearly, the only diapers I want to be changing when I'm 40 or more is those of my grandchildren.
Now think of this. My 40th birthday is 9 years away. And in all feasibility I COULD be changing the diapers of my grandchildren then. Katy would be almost 20. James would be 18. While I don't WANT my children to have children when they are that young, I'm a realist at heart. I just hope that at some point, they DO have children.
What does no more babies of my own mean? How will my life change?
Gone will be pregnancy, at least personally experienced. No waddling at 10 months pregnant. No extra swelling or needing larger clothes. Oh wait, I'm doing THAT without being pregnant! No throwing up needlessly. Or odd cravings. No giving birth of breast feeding or feeling that horrible guilt for quitting the breast feeding even though I hate it to begin with.
Once Izzy is potty trained, no more diapers until those grandbabies make their appearence. Or changing or holding or bathing babies. Yes, babies smell wonderful. However, grand babies smell even better, according to EVERY grandmother I've ever spoken to. Why? Because once they start smelling not so nice, or they start crying or doing any of that other "unpleasent" baby stuff, you can hand them back to their parents.
I'd say no more sleepless nights, but that's not true. Once these kids start dating and driving and growing up even more, there will be plenty of sleepless nights as I wait for them to get home safe and sound.
No more teaching and shaping and watching them grow. Well, again, that's not quite so. As they grow and develop and learn to become themselves, truly themselves, as adults, I will be watching and sharing and loving and teaching and learning with them. I've never been the parent to adults before, it'll be a new experience for all of us. I can only hope that they remember that I am here for them, with them, when they need me to learn from.
What I'm saying is this. While this is all "Something Completely Different" it really isn't. It's just bigger and more of the same thing, though in a slightly different form. So I shall stand up and look at my "Something Completley Different" with joy and tears and laughter and sorrow because that's how I look at it all right now. I know that I am doing my best to be the best for them and that one day, the whole world will see them as I do now. At least I hope so.
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