I realize it’s a little early on to make these sort of grand exaggerations, but here I am Braxton-Hicks-ing my way through week 17 and I’m just starting to question what I’ve done. I’m glad the God of the Universe decides when and where to plant babies–pregnancy surely wasn’t a mistake–but the God of the Universe doesn’t hang out in my kitchen making me shrimp po’boys with remoulade sauce, so I’m starving and fake-contracting and starving.
Next week we find out if the twins are boys or girls or boy-girl, and I’m dead from the suspense. DEAD.
I’ve been freaking out over the logistics of breastfeeding two babies at a time and trying to calculate exactly how much sleep I’ll be able to squeeze in after December, when I’ll be parenting so hard 2 newborns and an eighteen-month old and a four year old; plus trying to manage a ten year old boy whose math homework will officially be beyond me, and a ninth grader who talks faster than the speed of sound can carry words to my ears. Should we hire help? Can I even do this? How do people do this?
How. Do. They. Do. It. How.
Last week my best friend from high school came through Oklahoma on a cross-country road trip with his son. Lemme tell you about Brian: there has never been a more faithful ride-or-die friend in the history of mankind (unless you count Samwise Gamgee but he’s a hobbit so it’d be a little unfair.) It was Brian who came over everyday after school and helped me take care of Cheyenne/eat all my parents’ food. It was Brian that helped me get a D in Trigonometry. It was Brian that sat by me at lunch, walked me to class, drove me home from school, and stuck by me even when I couldn’t do cool stuff like go to parties or football games. It was Brian that made life during high school bearable.
And it was so wonderful to see him again after ten years, and meet one of his little boys for the first time. Even more wonderful was the fact that my family loves and appreciates him and his family as much as I do.
Other than that it’s been a relatively quiet five days around here–we’re smack dab in the middle of church camp week, so Arbor and Lucy are my faithful companions while Mia and Merrick run around in the mountains of Oklahoma living my best life today.
Caleb has been swamped with work and school stuff and projects and home repairs–we roughed it this past Sunday without water due to a minor leak that turned into a major leak in our well pump. He spent the majority of that 105 degree day bent over in a mud hole trying to fix the problem. I cannot say enough times how much I love that man, not because of how hard he works or how much he sacrifices for us, but because he is just so darn cool and funny and dashing and he’s just my best friend in the wide world.
Also, I be getting worked up and emotional about stuff.
I love that guy.