Treading water

A friend once described this phase of motherhood, where there is always a baby underfoot like treading water.  Sometimes it's all you can do, just to keep your head above water and gaining ground is futile. I feel like I've been in that zone for the past 8 or so years.  Just keeping us all alive and fed seems to be the maximum that I can do.

For me though that phase doesn't really apply to having a newborn.  Having a sweet, squishy, crying in the middle of the night, needy, needy, needy baby is second nature.  (Perhaps because I've been doing it, constantly.)  Drive to New York with a 2 month old baby and 5 other kids?  Bring it on.  I've got this.  I am obviously super tired but coffee and I are totally bestirs and I can run on little to no sleep.

It's that stinking being pregnant that kills me.  When I am pregnant I am my least favorite person. EVER. I am sooooooo tired all the time.  It's like that tiny little peanut butter that's barely a blip can just suck the stinking life right out of me.  I walk around in a zombie like state and the kids eat a lot of pizza.  (Which merits approximately zero complaints because if I would let them, they would eat pizza for three meals a day. Any pizza at all. There is zero preference under this roof.)

Although I agree that it can feel like treading water, I think it's more like walking through pudding or jello, or some other sticky sort of material that requires extreme effort.  Yes things like sickness and the like generally act like a tide and pull me back, the last mile or so that I've worked for, but I am gaining ground.  Slowly but surely, especially with a  few older kids thrown into the mix, we are getting somewhere. 


Yesterday was Thanksgiving.  Getting six kids dressed appropriately, clean, and hair done on all  of the girls is tantamount to a herculean feat sometimes.  Forget getting my crazy, frizzy, turning into my mother more each day hair under control and squeezing into some semblance of an outfit myself. Ah! Plus trying to get whatever contribution we are bringing food wise finished. (In yesterday's case a nice and easy fruit salad.) We totally rocked it out though. 

My husband was out doing chores and we had about 30 minutes before we had to go, when #2 announced that she couldn't wash her hands well because there was no water pressure in the bathroom.  #3 and I had been busily washing and cutting fruit and I hadn't noticed any problem in the kitchen, so I turned it on to check and it started running veeerrrrryyyyyy slowly.  I didn't worry about it too much because my husband had said something about possibly working on some water lines out in the barn and continued on my way.  He came in and was not in fact working on water lines.  I had 5 (Baby was still napping)  clean dressed children all reading stories, fruit salad prepared, and no water for my very stinky husband to shower with.  He ran around investigating and called the guy who fixes wells. (What is that called?  Well fixer seems about as close as I'm getting to a job title.) 

Pigs need water and it's cold in these here parts of Minnesota, and so it was not looking good for leaving.  I called my mother in law to see if she had any extra seats in her vehicle for some incredibly disappointed children.  She said they'd figure something out and #1-4 could ride along with them. I got them there while hubby ran to get a water tank and attempt to rig something or other that I will never understand, no matter how long I live on a farm.  (How does he just know what to do with these things?  I have zero understanding of the mechanics of anything. At all. Ever.)  Just as I was a few miles from home, he called me back to announce that the well fixer up man would be stopping over after he hate (Thank you God!)  After a quick shower at his parents house, we were off again just a bit late.  We arrived just as dinner was finishing up and had a lovely time with all of the extended family. 

Even when I am gaining ground in the area of child rearing and am able to get everyone ready, there is always something going on.  I'll continue walking through this sticky stuff, when it gets too be too overwhelming, ask for help and pray to God that it remains enough for me to bare. Never a quiet moment around these parts.