So, the thing about being pregnant is eventually you need to admit it to some people. The first people we told were the three older kids. It want something like this.....
Baba: Unimpressed and slightly annoyed. She had said last year she didn't ever want more siblings because she wouldn't really get to know them before leaving for college. It's a reasonable position. And well, she was less annoyed than me so I didn't really worry.
Baby: Super excited. Promptly volunteered to babysit "ALL THE TIME." Considering how that worked when it came to the dog, I will taking care of D'Garebear full time within a week.
Mac: As excited as Baby with less impulse control. We asked them all to not tell anyone else, so he didn't actually tell X-Man and Cinco, he just told them I might be pregnant.
X-Man: Nearly had a stroke with excitement. Promptly assumed that the whole nine month waiting period was created by me just to annoy him. Announced that he wanted a little brother, who would be named Robin. To complement his Batman-ness, of course.
Cinco: Wildly annoyed. She was perfectly comfortable in her role of youngest and queen and tyrant. Very aware the strength of the challenge coming at her and put off that she would have to take it on. Furthermore, she was insulted that while she didn't want a younger sibling X-Man wanted a baby brother and was getting what he wanted. Somehow that made everything worse.
So, there we were. X-Man actually counting down the minutes to the birth, Baba serving as Vice-President to Club Denial.
Early on I knew I had blood pressure issues. I had them with every pregnancy and they were the leading reason why we had decided that Cinco would be our family's final act. And I made the assumption that being active was the best thing to do for my rising blood pressure. If I wasn't pregnant, that actually would have been true. But apparently, that's the exact opposite approach pregnant women should take. Taking the exact wrong approach to parenting has been my modus operandi so far, so at least D'Garebear can rest easy knowing that I cared for him as I had all my other kids. In the worst possible way. I'm consistent.So, I just kept life as "normal." Which meant insanity. Sixteen years into parenthood and I'm still trying to figure out how to get the "home" into "stay at home mom." All five kids were in martial arts, which meant six classes a week. We originally enrolled just X-Man and Mac as they both could benefit from the slower moving exercises. But the studio's policy is once you've paid for two students, the rest of the family can attend for free. Well not free, there's a lot of stuff you have to buy, but classes are free. As Baba is driving herself now, I wanted her to be able to beat people up so off they all went. Then all three girls are in soccer, X-Man swims and has his therapies. So, even if I had thought to take it easy, it would have been impossible. I was determined to not drop activities because I didn't want D'Garebear to be blamed for that.
On top of life, I was trying to make the most of the summer. Our last summer without a baby or toddler crimping our plans. X-Man's birthday is at the end of July, so I decided we should all visit a water park. Because those are good for the blood pressure. Especially if it takes two hours to drive the to the water park. Not to say the drive wasn't fun. I got to introduce the father figure to the classic Paul Anka hit "Having My Baby." I'm not sure which was more enjoyable for me, watching the father figure fight off an asthma attack while laughing or Baby and Baba's faces while the dulcet sounds of "I love love love what it's doing to me" filled the car. Just in case they weren't disturbed enough by the whole situation. About fifteen minutes from the park, X-Man started wailing that he was missing his entire birthday and we needed to go home.
Eventually X-Man laid eyes on the water park, realized we weren't just driving for the sake of driving. His tears stopped and the long list of all the slides and rides he had to ride on immediately began. And with his excitement, my plans to spend the day floating along the "lazy river" on an inner tube were shelved. The father figure took Cinco, who viewed all rides involving water with great skepticism. I took X-Man and spent the rest of the day climbing stairs to ridiculously tall slides. Apparently my blood pressure was not impressed.
The next day I was at a soccer tournament with Cinco. It was her very first and at the end of July so of course it poured rain in the morning and was 87 degrees. It was simple enough, until I had to yell at two other coaches reminding them that they were about to come to blows over a game being played by six year olds and that their use of f-bombs was absurd. I scared them both. Cranky pregnant women serve an important role in society.
I returned home without my ankles. It took three days for them to find me. Probably because the father figure decided to help me relax at home. It went something like this:
"Lay down. Why haven't you laid down yet? Lay down. Lay down. Lay down!"
Super relaxing.
"Why aren't you feet up. They need to be above your head. Here have more pillows. Keep your feet above your head. Are you eating? Why are you talking? You need to be resting!"
I think he enjoyed this a little too much.
Of course wherever I decided to rest, I was found. Inevitably I was tasked with solving a significant issue, such as getting a straw in a juice box, or gluing Mario's arm back on. And of course the father figure would get involved.
"Why are you talking to your mother? Shes resting. Come here. I can do it. Leave your mom alone."
"SHE'S FIXING MY TOY! IT'S MY FAVORITE AND CINCO RUINED IT!!!"
"I DID NOT! IT'S X-MAN'S FAULT. I NEVER BREAK TOYS!"
In case it's not clear, they were in separate rooms, yelling.
When you think about it, it's really amazing my blood pressure held it together as long as it did.
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