My three year old is tougher than me

The other night I was curled up with my favorite three year old, reading her bedtime stories when I happened to glance down and see that her big toe was purple. And not just purple but that the nail was coming detached down near the bottom. When I asked her about it she couldn’t tell me when or how it happened. She insisted it didn’t hurt.  She kept assuring me that she was proud of her purple toe. First pink eye, and now a purple toe! What more could a girl want right? Well, maybe a band aid?! I had to talk her into it.  At first I was a little taken aback by the whole thing. Then Peter and I just laughed saying she must have his pain tolerance.

We laughed but it actually got me thinking though. I am 35 weeks pregnant and, how shall I say this without exaggerating it at all, more uncomfortable and in constant pain than I have ever been before and almost consumed by how miserable I feel. There. Phew. I didn’t want to oversell that one. Lately my pain tolerance has been pretty low. I mean this really has been by far my hardest pregnancy, but I am sure Peter can tell you my most recurring symptom these days is whining. I keep telling him “I still have SO far to go!”. Some husbands might think to themselves, “ Good gracious, get this obnoxious lady an epidural now so she shuts up!” But not my husband. He would never, ever think I was annoying, even in the slightest. In fact, he actually told me the other day he looks forward to my nightly “complain on the couch” sessions almost as much as the teary mid day phone calls at work.

Anyway, I had a bit of an epiphany the other day. Get ready for it. Just like all my other ground breaking discoveries this one is sure to make you fall back in your seat. This is why you read my blog, right? For insights you would never have had the common sense much less intellect to arrive at on your own? So here it is: Me complaining, dragging and wasting my way through the next month or so will not make it go any faster AND (don’t you love bonus epiphanies!?) it will not make it any more fun for me (or others…still feeling a little selfish right now.)  Boom. Knowledge dropped.  No matter how much I whine about back pain or a giant baby cranium ramming my pelvic bone, the baby will not be born sooner. No matter how much I moan about how huge I am, how I have never been huger and how even my thighs look pregnant, the baby will not be born sooner. Scientists have done research to prove it.

Not just that but I am getting myself into a worse funk. I really might go insane if I am cooped up on the couch with myself much longer. So I made a pact with myself. (When you get this large in size you actually can make pacts with yourself. It is like the only plus-that and sweat pants disguised as jeans.) I decided that every day from now until this sweet girl decides to join us on the outside I need to make some changes. I am going to read my Bible and pray every day. (Clearly, I was already doing this without ever “accidently” missing a day. That first step is for anyone following along at home who is also in a 35 week pregnant funk and needs the anecdote.) I also want to be more selfless. I need to get out of my own head space and my own problems. I need to be purposeful about being more thoughtful and kind to others, whether that means dropping them an encouraging email, bringing them a meal or listening while they vent while I bite my tongue till it turns as purple as Hayleigh’s toe so they I don’t make the conversation all about me. And finally, I love my family. I adore the four of us. Lately when I look at how I have been spending my time and energy a lot of if it is just buying my time until we are a family of five-which will be wonderful! But it is coming no faster or slower based on my attitude these last few weeks. So I choose to soak up what moments I can during our last days as a family of four, Braxton’s last days as the baby and Hayleigh’s last days as my only girl. Their young lives are so fleeting anyway and I will never have these days back. If I ever did get them back, I can tell you how I would not spend them-how I have been, or at least with the attitude I have been spending them with.

So I told Peter about my master plan and I am going to let my amazing community group girls in on it too, because you better believe I need all the accountability I can get. I am fully aware that I often tend to be a not self motivated person and my well intentioned plans quickly fall by the wayside. It is actually very likely that in two or three days (I am getting very optimistic and generous with myself and not saying two or three hours) I will park my buns right back in whineyville. That is when I am going to need a gentle slap across the face from someone who is an expert in such things. It doesn’t mean I won’t allow myself to get the rest I need-believe me there is no danger in that happening. It also doesn’t mean I will be sickening perky and dishonest about how wonderful I feel-also no danger in that happening. But something an amazing friend told me when we were pregnant with our last babies together has circled back around. She told me that since we are pregnant for 40 weeks, give or take, and since the number 40 is the number used in the bible to bring someone though a time of testing and refinement, maybe we ought to view pregnancy that way too. I decided since I have already wasted the first 35 I might as well try to glean what I can in the last 5. And who knows, maybe God will reward my awesome, new found, positive attitude with a baby born a couple weeks early! Wink wink.

We went to a nearby park yesterday to soak in some gorgeous fall color and I brought the camera to take some photos and soak in the gorgeousness of my sweet babies at play. I took over 200 shots so be happy this is all I am cramming down your throat. Happy (pregnant) Fall!

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