On Blocking the Difficult Stuff Out

Today was a long and weary day. I woke up early to head to the hospital to start the three hour glucose test done on pregnant women to see if they have gestational diabetes. You have to fast and you have to spend a lot of time waiting around. I spent my time paying bills, writing thank you notes and catching up on to-do lists. Then I ran out to eat and drop off some dry cleaning before rushing back to the doctor’s office for my regular OB appointment (wherein nothing of note took place).

Our beloved friend, Candice, watched the kids while I was gone. She texted me messages and pics of them when she took them to the park. She gave me updates when I returned home. And then she stayed longer so I could lay down and take a nap while she watched the kids. 

When I got up, I walked into a living room of chaos – the expected kind: tiny messes here and there, one kid yelling about some unmet need that has to BE. DONE. NOW. It was pretty representative of a normal, ordinary moment in a normal, ordinary day. 

I took Candice out for a “treat” as thank you for all her hard work and help today and we got into a conversation abut Henry at this age. I kept saying things like “I don’t remember Henry being as emotional or as high maintenance as Cora”. And she kept pulling out these old stories about Henry around this age – stories where he was just as high maintenance, but in his own Henry ways. He used to refuse to wear a jacket at all costs.  He used to demand that when we color we only use the brown and green crayons, and he was in charge of who used them and when. How easily I forgot these difficulties (for lack of a better term). In such a short time, I had already removed these examples from my memory of what Henry “used to be like”.

Even when we were home in Ohio the last few weeks, I got a lot of ” i don’t remember kids being quite this loud” from our parents. And other comments of that nature. It is funny how our minds work, isn’t it?  How can we be so utterly present and involved in this aspect of life – the raising of children – and yet forget so much of the hard work it takes? 

The last few days since returning home have been interesting and challenging ones. We are navigating our way through new wake up times and binky/ipad addictions while trying to get back to normal – whatever normal looks like. But I want to try to do better to remember the realities of these times, not just the polished version that makes these days look better in hind sight. 

On a somewhat unrelated note, nothing feels better than returning home after being away. I have never been so happy to come back home – to my bed (and my giant snoogle body pillow), to our car and to the cozy little life we have set up here, no matter how difficult it is to readjust back to normal like.

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