Warming up formula for 2am feedings, listening to pitiful cries begging me to hurry…
Wow, this brings back memories, only without the anxiety of how we’re going to pay for college.
We’re hand-feeding four baby kittens. When they drink, their ears and tail twitch as they swallow. It is the most adorable thing, ever. Their faces are so tiny…. I think they resemble Yoda….only cuter. I want to keep them all!!!! (Uh, that’s NOT going to happen by the way, really.)
But that does remind me, I need to put an automatic litter cleaner thingy on my wish list. Do those even work?? They seem awfully small to me, and I’m even talking about the ones marked jumbo.
Anyway, so here I am, bottle-feeding these helpless creatures. Who knew taking care of kittens would be so….smelly? So, I’ve got formula-milk stains on my shirt… giving my husband horrible flashbacks to when I was breastfeeding…. And the kitty pee on my sweatpants is really quite stinky, but that might be because, ever since becoming a mom, my sense of smell has developed into a superpower….
With the addition of all the towels the kittens sleep on (and pee and poop on), and towels we clean them with…. OMG, the laundry!!! I’ve got three kids so I already have mountains of laundry….. and deal with enough feces and other bodily fluids, I really didn’t need any MORE…but sheesh, the kittens are so cute, I kinda don’t mind.
Prior to caring for these kittens, there was a small part of me that was starting to miss having a little, bitty baby around. I just love babies. Before I had kids, I wanted a dozen of them!!! (It’s not really one of my goals anymore, LOL.)
I didn’t get around to having kids until I was in my 30’s, mostly because of infertility issues. When my first child was finally born, it was awesome. She was a perfect, sweet, snuggly baby girl who only cried if tired, hungry, or off schedule.
It was Mother Nature’s trick to make me think having another one would be easy.
My second baby girl came along with a completely different personality all her own. She’s our precocious, witty, drama-queen child. A family of four seemed to be the perfect number…. We were happy with our little brood.
With all the years of infertility issues, we figured our family expansion project was complete. If I’m not taking medications for infertility, then I can’t get pregnant, right? WRONG.
It didn’t occur on me to take a pregnancy test until my entire family recovered from the stomach flu, but I did not.
Wait, they’re all better, but the smell of french fries suddenly made me vomit uncontrollably… hmmmm, I haven’t felt like this since… OMG, no freakin’ way!
Hubby and I made eye contact in that moment as our brains were locked in an ESP Vulcan mind meld sort of way as I said, “Will you go out and buy a pregnancy test?” at the same time he said, “Maybe I should go out and buy a pregnancy test.”
Of course it was positive.
It was a strange feeling. On the one hand, for nearly a decade I had spent so much time crying and worrying about whether I’d ever be able to have kids, and we went through so much effort to conceive our two daughters.
But on the other hand, like, how is this going to work? how can we afford this?
Most of the baby stuff was sold, consigned, or given away….ugh, we have to buy all that crap all over again, and shit, when did I get pregnant? how far along am I? what about that dental work and pain meds I took a couple of weeks ago???
Having a surprise pregnancy was a new experience and left me totally speechless. It was freaky because I know the DAY my girls were conceived….. But this time, I mistook morning sickness for having the flu or simple disgust at the seasonal job I was working. With the hormonal irregularity that is “normal” for me, it didn’t occur to me that I could be pregnant. I was almost 10 weeks along before I saw the OB for the first time.
So now I have a son. Surprisingly, he’s much more of a cuddle bug than his sisters were, but he’s also all boy with his mischievous shenanigans and monkey-climbing skills.
I’ve got a beautiful family of five, feeling really blessed, and watching these ridiculously cute kittens eat and reflecting that I’ve been pregnant, breast-feeding, or potty training someone for the past 10 years.
I’m still trying to get my son to give up the pullups, and he’s 3. Dude, get with the program already.