Summertime

Summer around here has been hot and humid. Steamy, even. It's felt a lot like living on the East coast, making it somewhat unbearable for this pregnant lady to spend any amount of extended time outside.

I feel bad for my kiddos...summer is winding down (only one month left until school starts back up) and we've only gone to the pool once and one kid has gone to the beach once with grandma. Otherwise they've been playing their leap pads, riding bikes, shooting water guns and watching movies. It doesn't sound that bad actually, but mommy guilt is palpable and I feel bad for not giving them any fun summer experiences. My hail mary is the weekend trip we have planned for the end of the month near Notre Dame in Indiana. We rented an Airbnb with a pool and situated on the river so we should get plenty of outdoor fun before the summer ends.

Pregnancy the second time around has been strange. For some reason I thought it would feel the same as it did with Owen. Magical, momentous, awe-inspiring. Not that it's not those things, but certainly not the way it was the first time. I find myself so busy with the kids and still all-consumed by Owen that I can't really give this pregnancy the same kind of focus and attention that I had before. Again, mommy guilt.

I was hoping to be more fit this time around. Unfortunately, though I am more active, it seems that pregnancy just likes me with more weight. I will never be one of those "all belly" ladies with skinny arms, thighs and face all the while with a beach ball belly. I will expand everywhere, like I did with Owen, and eventually, I will work to lose the weight.

We have decided that this is our last baby. My last pregnancy. The last time I will grow life within my body and feel the soft flutter, and then strong jolt of baby kicks inside my tummy. The last time I would have waited expectantly for that plus sign to appear, then grinned with excitement at the thought of telling Rocky that we're going to have a baby. The last time I had a chance to bear a biological daughter.

We've decided it's time to close this door, though we still haven't decided on the when. I'd like to be hormone-free before making that permanent decision.

But we feel comfortable with our choice.

It feels right.

Four boys feels like enough.

I don't even grieve the daughter I never had.

At least not yet.

It's a foreign concept to me anyway.

This endless summer has not been nearly as bad as I anticipated it to be. Between kids staggered at camp and summer school there hasn't been too much time for nonstop bickering. The kids are still at each other's throats more-so than not, but it's manageable. When I need to separate them, I do. They're getting better at handling consequences than they used to. Less tears and, "but I didn't..." and more quiet, if not angry, acceptance that they were wrong. It's progress.

I am just feeling so tired and a bit lethargic right now. Part of it is the pregnancy (hello, third trimester!). Part of it is that Owen has never been a good sleeper and still wakes up a few times a night, which means I do, too. Part of it is summer and the overwhelming heat and humidity of some days. Part of it is living in a city with constant noise pollution and no privacy whatsoever. Part of it is sheer exhaustion of raising kids with so many issues and needs that are not typical of other kids their ages. Part of it is (sniffle) getting older and needing more rest but still being in a season in my life where I'm having babies and chasing toddlers.

It's a season I'm looking forward to moving out of. I'd like to eventually get back to myself a little bit, and my marriage (which let me just say I am so grateful for! I have such a wonderful partner in Rocky. He makes marriage easy).

But right now, as the big kids head off to bed, I just want to put my slightly swollen feet up, eat an unhealthy snack, snuggle my toddler for as long as he'll let me, and watch some gratuitous tv.

Mommy guilt doesn't win all the time.