Just Scream Dance 2

I’m 37 weeks pregnant today which means “full-term.” Which means I could deliver at any moment. Well, I’m sure there’ll be a little notice. I went into labor with Henry two days before his due date and he was born very early the morning before. The doctor says this is a good thing, that my internal clock is accurate. Look out August 14 then.

Henry was in camp this week so I tried to spend my mornings knocking things off my to-do list. Monday was very productive. Tuesday through Friday I think I added more things to the list than took off. I hope Front Loader hasn’t heard how many times I’ve said “the worst timing” in describing his arrival. We are excited, just ill-planned.

There are moments when Henry is being the bestest boy – splashing in the water at Lake George in his Thomas the Tank Engine swim trunks, the sun reflecting in his brown with yellow specks eyes – and I think, This next one is going to be so much easier. I’ll just throw on the sling and tuck in FL and we can come to the lake and enjoy the rippling water that laps at my legs while Henry walks on his hands, making a tunnel through my legs. Then there are moments where 45minutes into trying to get Henry to take a nap – “I’m not a nap boy, Momma.” – where I think What have I done?? How does anyone ever have more than one child?? And yet plenty of people have. When we found out we were having another boy, I started counting all the friends I know who have two boys. A surprising number. And they are all incredibly, impressive mothers (or fathers). I got this, I’ll think. And then Henry will yell “Poop!”

I’m at the point in my pregnancy where the belly is peaking out below even my maternity shirts and people feel comfortable approaching me in public about the impending arrival. Most conversations begin with “When are you due?,” contain a story about their child(ren) and end with “Enjoy it because it goes so fast. Good luck.” It’s a strange thing for strangers to know this about you. No one knew when I was going through a divorce or got a new job or had a fight with my parents. Yet, just by looking at me, they know at some point soon I will be in a hospital with near-strangers between my legs helping me push out a mini-human. Doesn’t that seem extremely personal? Is that what warrants the conversations? It’s like, Well, we know all know this about you and some of us have been through this before so we might as well just address the Front Loader in the room. A public connection too strong not to acknowledge.

And I suppose this is why Mommy Groups are so popular. Motherhood can be so polarizing and isolating. It’s easy to drop into the mind-sucking quicksand of poop and feedings and lack of sleep. To forget that millions of parents around the world are experiencing (or have experienced) the same thing night after night, year after year. What’s surprised me the most is when I feel less than, it’s my mom telling me how occasionally she’d have to go in another room and do a scream dance just to make it through a moment when we were young. It’s probably because I consider her a model mother that her itty-bitty-breakdowns are so meaningful to me. It tells me it’s okay to need to scream dance in another room. My child can still feel loved and I won’t win Crazy Mother of the Year.

With two children, I may need to hear more stories from my mother.