what goes down must come up

Did I say that wrong?

You'll have to excuse me for such a lame title, but that seems to be the theme of my life right now, although some days are better than others.  I hate to be to graphic and so knowing that I am getting (much too) big with child, I'll let you fill in the blanks.  And lest this sound like a complain fest (I'm sure it does), I'll just say I'm so thankful that this baby is on the way as I've known that this little one needed our family (or perhaps our family needed this little one) since almost the minute Claire was born. 

That said, Baby number five is kicking my pants. 

I used to strive to win the title of "Meanest Mom of the Year".  Now I'm stepping up my game.  My latest efforts are focused toward winning the "Meanest and Laziest Mom of the Year" title, and I tell you what.  I'm a shoe-in for sure.  (Although this morning I did do something crazy like turning on my vacuum and giving it a whirl just to see if it still works.  When it came roaring to life, I admit I let out an ol' "Well, lookee there!"  My vacuum does work, after all.  Guess it's just me that quit. 

The other day I was talking to Ryenne and trying to feel her out about her Faith in God award.  As in, does she have any interest at all?  Because so far, she's about one goal into a four year plan- with only one year to go.  I don't want to push her to earn it if she doesn't want to (after all, it's her award-not mine).  Therefore, I just casually put it out there into her atmosphere that if she has any desire whatsoever, she might want to take a peek into that little book of hers and set a goal or two.  Upon which she responded, "Yeah. . .I'm not really into setting goals." 

This morning I'm feeling like her twin.  Lately, I'm not really into goals, either.  Such as showering, cleaning, and doing the laundry. . .although I'm right on top of my game at getting my eight hours of sleep per night.  Plus two.  OR, how about single-handedly assisting my toddler in her mastery of movie-watching-for-hours-on-end?  Check. 

Lately I've spent a few good hours with the IV pole on account that I can't keep liquid down so well.  Which leads me to having to track how much I'm drinking every day.  You know what?  One liter suddenly seems like a whole lot.  This is why I am now a bonified coke drinker.  Turns out it's an old remedy for nausea.  I've never drank coke before in my whole life.  You see, I don't (didn't) drink soda pop.  Courtney laughs every time he sees me sipping on one.  The girls think this habit is sinful and shocking.  As in, "Gasp!  Mom's drinking COKE!!!!"  (Courtney chuckles at this and claims that in the girls minds, the can might as well have Budweiser plastered across it.)  Like I said, we don't (didn't) drink a lot of soda pop around here.

The other day I was dropping the girls off at school and we pulled up in front, parking behind the Coca-Cola truck.  Ryenne looked at me and with a sly sort of grin, said, "Hey Mom!  It's the Coke truck.  Maybe if you go ask him, he'll give you a couple".   She was laughing as she got out of the car. 

And this morning, as I was bent over the toilet as part of my morning ritual, Claire came in and joined me.  Really joined me, I mean.  Gagged her fruit loops up all over the rug (thank goodness for rugs).  She's done it twice since.  Yeah for a mom who is raising a two- year-old bulimic.

Like I said, five is sounding like a good, round number.