Remember how the first time I was pregnant, the husband got laid off? And I had to move to another continent in my last trimester? And then the second time I was pregnant, the husband got laid off? And I had to move across the country in my last trimester? It was this loud sforzando when it felt like the bottom fell out of our lives that slowly faded in a diminuendo until we found the new normal, many months and months later.
The job scare was before I got pregnant the third time around, so despite feeling sick and trying to raise two kids, I was thinking I'd gotten off easy this time. 9 months of pregnancy went by with me holding my breath until I finally started to feel cautiously optimistic - but then there was this February night 3 weeks before my due date when our little family was asked to drive through a wicked snowstorm all the way from our town to Madison just to hear these words:
"We'd like to extend a calling for you to be bishop."
We drove home slowly - what with snow pelting our windshield like we were in hyperdrive (Star Wars reference ftw!) - and tried to take it all in while the kids blissfully argued in the back seat about who had more fruit snacks.
I'm starting to realize that the hard stuff is just beginning. It wasn't a loud clap of thunder, but a small growl that keeps growing louder. Now puleeze, I am NOT complaining here. With extreme amounts of service I have felt extreme blessings and I am not one to sneeze at those. I'm just realizing this time my usual pregnancy-challenge was a few months later than my previous two and it's going to take a while more to find that new normal.
I'm trying to figure all this out and be introspective because I need to find the new normal STAT. It doesn't help that it's summer and I spend all day with the kids and because of the bishop thing, I also spend the evening alone with them too several times a weeks. Oh, and last Saturday. And next Saturday. But I'm not complaining about that - I'm really not. I have a front row seat to this amazing refining process the Lord has when we are giving a mountain to climb. It's amazing to see the husband grow as he gets some serious spiritual muscles, and his capacity to love and serve others is expanding exponentially. It's not a easy process, but for those willing to take on a challenges the Lord gives us, it is so worth it.
What I AM complaining about is that just ONCE I would like one of those stationary babies. Those younger children who are content to sit back and watch their siblings race around and lazily decide to walk well after their first birthday. And the signs are pointing to another child who starts running away from me at 9 friggin' months. The stress of wildly active children is going to send me to an early grave.
Thing 3 has been rolling over for a week and keeps ramping it up - rolling over onto his face and being angry until we have to right him and he IMMEDIATELY rolls right back OVER AND OVER or he just keeps rolling so I have to be constantly vigilant, trying to keep the Dude from accidentally stomping on his head as he runs circles around... well, everything. How is this happing this soon?? I read tons of stories of babies who lay there content and happy for months and get around to walking in their own time. Not my humans. They want to make my life infinitely more difficult as early as possible.
Is there some way to slow these things down? I mean, does having awesomesauce kids also have to involve them being tiny spaz bots? Why are they EXACLY LIKE ME only way smarter??
I blame the husband's genes.