Friday, December 15

With Three You Get Frazzled

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YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!!!  I cannot possibly sag there!  But there it was-my neck had somehow buried itself in fluff and erased the space between my chin and my chest.  I couldn’t understand it.  I mean, seriously, I already live with a 13 year old who only last summer discovered that Riverside was named because it lies next to a river, a 15 year old son who expends more energy avoiding work than actually completing the chore, and a 20 year old who is trying to “decide the direction of her life”.  And now this. 

Did I mention that I also teach middle school?  Yep, I teach technology and English at a nearby middle school.  So as I take stock of my life, I am a short, squatty mom and wife who has not only hit the wall of middle age, but has a career that would make most people cringe.  I spend approximately 18 hours a day with hormone driven adolescents bouncing off the walls like a vat of ping pong balls.  To put the icing on the cake, I am now-OFFICIALLY-a blob.

But I am getting ahead of myself.  How did I arrive here in the first place?  It all began when my mother cursed me when I was 15. She said, “I pray each day that you end up with children twice as horrible as you are.”  (My siblings and I call these snippets of love Marge-isms) At the time I laughed, but now I think my mother overdid it.  When I met my husband on a blind date, I had no idea where it was headed.  On our first date, he told me he had no intention of staying in the midwest, no desire to ever marry and have a family, and was going to get his law degree and head for California. Well, the joke is on him.  18 years later, we live in South Dakota, have been married for 16 years, and have only visited California upon occassion. 

Since our oldest child was from my first marrige and was four when we got married, Jim had no idea how exciting having a baby was, or how nervewracking.  When it was time to go to the hospital, Jim was white-knuckling the steering wheel and swerving across between lanes.  You guessed it-we got pulled over by a policeman.  It was his first night on duty and since Jim was mumbling incoherently, I gave the officer the information he needed by pointing at my protruding belly.  He started sweating profusely and said, “This is my first night.  I’ll uh…I’ll uh..escort you to the hospital.”  So with sirens blaring and lights flashing, we brought Matthew into the world-23 1/2 hours later.  LOL  (His head is rather large even today.) 

Because that went so well, 9 months later I called Jim at work to tell him the pregnancy stick turned blue again.  There was silence, and then a click.  He hung up on me.  He is still paying for that error today.  But despite the hang up, Theresa was born.  In the delivery room, they kept telling my husband to go and get something to eat, it would be awhile.  He kept muttering, “Nuh-uh.”  Finally, they asked him for the third time, and he blurted out, “YOU DON”T KNOW HOW SHE GETS. I AM NOT LEAVING.”  I have no idea what that statement meant. 

We progressed as most families do, diaper changes, formula, day care, school plays, carpools, swimming lessons, and the rest.  Looking back, those days seem pretty easy. Each year continued to bloom and blossom-and so did my hinney.   I really didn’t have time to notice age creeping up or my chest creeping down.  Until one day, when I was 40.  I foolishly thought I would review my life.  Big mistake-BIG.  I was humongous, had wrinkles where supermodel used to be, (a girl can dream can’t she?)  three squabbling children, 150 drama filled students by day, and a husband who sat in his chair after work muttering about the kids eating enough fruit.  So I ate, and ate, and ate. 

Today, I will exercise more, and snack less.  I will take time for myself and ignore the current mischief and failings of my children.  I will start today reborn, energetic, and successful.  It is a new day~at least until the kids wake up.

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