Welcome to Mommyhood

*this was written, and intended to be posted, the morning of 5-27, so it is dated then*


(Let me preface this by saying, for the sake of someone who might be visiting my blog for the first time, that at the moment I am not married, nor will I be [probably] for at least a couple more years; at the moment I am an unmarried virgin (who will remain such until her wedding day), who longs for a husband, children, a home...in short, a family of her own. That said, I believe that these are the years in which our Good Lord is preparing me for marriage and motherhood. And last night He did quite a bit of preparing.)

I don't remember what it was exactly that I was dreaming about, but somebody was talking, and they were making some very strange noises. They kept making a sort of 'bleh, bleeeh' kind of noise. Repeatedly.

By the time the noise got to the 'blwaaaakk' part, I was awake.

Now, I have been perfecting a skill lately. It's called the 'how-fast-you-can-jump-out-of-bed,-grab-your-glasses,-turn-on-the-light,-and-become-awake-enough-to-deal-with-the-situation'. I've gotten pretty good at it, usually because Skeeter was playing with something noisy.

It's too bad we didn't clock it last night. I guarantee it was record time.

Anyway, to make a long story just a bit shorter, poor Casey had thrown up twice. Once right outside our hallway, the other time right in front of my parents' bedroom door. Lovely.

I grabbed her collar and hustled her outside. I'm not sure whether she threw up more outside or not, but I wasn't going to take any chances. Then I came back and surveyed the damage. It was immediately apparent to me that we can no longer allow Casey Baby to chew on plastic water bottles. You know, the cloudy kind that you buy bottled water in? She loves to chase and chew them...and, up till now, has had no problems in digesting the pieces that she has eaten.

I hope she enjoyed that bottle -- it's the last one she'll get for a long........long.........time.........

So I cleaned it up, and placed wet rags on the carpet, and boxes on top of the rags, so that neither Casey nor Skeeter could get to those places again during the night. I also used our dining room chairs to block off the part of the living room that I am currently sleeping in.

(Oh, did I mention that? I'm sleeping in a sleeping bag in the living room right now because my aunt from Phoenix is visiting, and she's sleeping in my bed. Skeeter's bowls and box were moved to the front bathroom, so all three of us spend our night in the living room.)

So then I went back to my sleeping bag, intending to leave Casey outside for about 20 minutes to make sure she was finished with her...eh...unpleasantness. But on the way from the bathroom back to my bag, I noticed that Skeeter had gotten hold of a pincushion, and had littered the floor with pins...exactly where I had been stepping while cleaning up Casey's mess. I praise the Lord that I didn't get one of those pins in my bare feet! By the way, did I mention that all this was going on at 2:21 AM????

So I gathered up the pins and put away the pincushion, went to the bathroom (because by this time, I *really* had to go), and got back into my sleeping bag. But I can't seem to doze off again. So my half-asleep/mostly-awake brain is running the gamet of topics, most notably the plan of salvation (don't ask -- I already said it was 2:21 AM, which was after I had already finished everything -- Casey originally threw up at 2:13 AM), and Skeeter is running the gamet of mischief. She's jumping and playing and frolicking, all in the unusually mischievious way that she does only when she's out of food. Food. I got up again, went into the bathroom, and sure enough, she's down to crumbs. (She has ways of letting you know that she's hungry and out of food, usually by unusual, very mischievious behavior -- the other night it was by biting my rear end under the sheet.)

So by this time, it's 2:33 AM. I give Skeet a half-scoop (1/4 cup) of food and come back to the living room. I look over, and Casey's standing at the back door hoping to come back in -- I don't blame her, it's cold and dark out there, but I'm not sure whether she's finished with her stuff or if she's just going to do it again. So I make sure there is no way she can get past the dining room chairs circled around the living room couch, and I let her back in...and she and I fall into bed.

My alarm goes off, as usual, on the dot of 5:05 (actually, it's 5:04 by the mantel clock -- either my alarm and the stove clock are fast, or the mantel clock is slow, I'm not sure which). I let the nice preacher (it's set to a Christian radio station because the beeping is loud enough to wake the living all across the house!) go on nearly until the 5:07 reminder alarm. I know I should get up...this is the time that the Lord and I agreed on earlier, because my parents get up at 5:30 and my mom needs me to help with breakfast and the whole day just gets busier from there, so I really don't have time for my personal devotions any other time of the day. So He and I agreed that I would get up half an hour earlier than the other occupants of the house, to talk, and read His Word, and just to fellowship together in the early morning. But after that night...boy, I didn't want to get up. So I asked the One with whom I had made the agreement: "Lord, do You want me to get up early this morning? I'm tired, and I don't want to, but if You want me to, I will..." I waited. The answer came back, like I knew it would, but the actual answer surprised me: No. I asked again, just to make sure, and the same answer came back the same. I thanked Him, flipped the second alarm off, rolled over, and went right back to sleep until 5:30.

Now, I know this isn't exactly like motherhood. For one thing, you can't just stick your kid outside when they're throwing up and leave them there until they're done...you simply can't do that. That's certainly one thing nicer about having a dog as your baby. Also, I know that when you're a mommy, the day goes on whether you want it to or not -- you can't just sleep in an extra 20 minutes just because you feel like it. A husband depends on you, the other kids depend on you...you can't just decide you want to sleep in. On the other hand, it was still a good experience in my mommy-training. To rise in the wee hours of the morning to care for my sick child, alone, and clean up after her, and miss sleep...well, sounds to me an awful lot like the stories I've heard from mommies of babies. So, I end this lengthy narrarative with the conclusion:

I SURE AM LOOKING FORWARD TO BEING A REAL MOMMY!!!!!