Still on a modified bed-rest. Still queasy. Still exhausted. And missing my personality and fire more than ever. I don’t laugh very much these days and certainly am not fun. It’s okay for a week or two but I’m heading towards week 14 and I need to start getting me back. My boys need their good mom back. The mom that’s in the house ain’t so hot.
I’ve blown up at my oldest three times this week and he’s a great kid. Yes, he’s 13 and yes he’s a boy, but he’s so good and so good with me, and so loving. Nothing disappoints me as much as when I fail as a mom, when I fail to be patient, or understanding. Nothing makes me sadder than hurting the kids’ feelings or letting them down. Just before I blew up this morning I was telling my youngest that being his and Jake’s mom makes me so happy. I feel so lucky to be their mom. They’re amazing kids and I love their company. But I am letting them down lately. I’m missing my bounce, that extra bit of flexibility and give that allows us to smooth the bumps and cracks. Instead I’m tripping on them and falling flat. I’m grouchy and achy and queasy and scared and blue.
I just want some good news on the baby front. I want to be off bed-rest and be able to start exercising. My body needs it. My head really needs it. I crave exercise, sunshine, and endorphins and a return of my sense of humor wouldn’t hurt, either.
Fortunately, Surfer Ty flies in on Monday night and he’ll be here for about 10 days. By the time he arrives it’ll be a month since I last saw him (since our trip on Amtrak to California) and he’s promised to take over finding food and helping gets boys from Point A to Point B, and while I can’t wait to see him, I wish I was in better form. I wish I had my old personality back, the one that was fun. I feel like such a grumpy old lady. I should be wearing a handkerchief on my head, knotted under my chin, and shuffling around in faded pink slippers and a blue flowered housecoat because that’s how I feel on the inside. Red-veined nose. Wart on chin. With a nice big hair sprouting from the wart.
But even grumpy, hairy chinned old ladies can give away prizes and I’m going to be giving away a copy of The Desert Sheikh’s Marriage–signed by both UK author Sarah Morgan and me–a lovely scented candle, bath products and a bunch of Jane Porter goodies like pens, bookmarks, compact mirror and letter opener. To enter contest just post a comment and Friday midnight I’ll draw a name and share the winner’s name below on Saturday. So check back Saturday to see if you maybe won this fun prize, and thank you Sarah Morgan for contributing the signed book for this week’s contest!