January 26, 2015 by Heather
If a picture is worth a thousand words, then at least some of the words for this one would be “Mama has lost her mind and forgotten how to clean the house but at least the child is beaming.”
My beautiful, loving husband snapped this photo on Friday — the final day (thank God) of what is technically referred to, I believe, as a Two Week Long Anxiety Attack. I’m sorry, I know that sounds melodramatic and poor-pitiful-me, but I call it like I see it. And boy, it was ugly. Something about classes (for me AND Andrew) starting back, ballgames resuming, Parker being the toddler version of Road Runner on steroids, and these insane pregnancy hormones dinging around inside my body like I’m a human pinball machine… it all came to a big fat head (yum) on Friday, just about when Andrew took this beautiful portrait of motherhood. Thankfully, Parker had a sleepover at my dad’s that night, which left plenty of time for Andrew to gently talk me off my ledge and snap my head back on straight. I told you, it was ugly. ‘Tis a new week, and I am feeling a billion times better. Sometimes these funks happen. Real life. It’s hard to make it sound pretty and fun all the time, because it’s not always that way.
So school is back in sesh and, as usual, I’m the most popular and hottest
mom girl on campus. It just gets old sometimes, you know? Anyways. It’s my burden to carry. Last semester I started a class and actually ended up deciding to drop it — our schedule in the Fall was super nuts (my superhero name) even without me taking a class, and something had to give. The plate was overflowing. I was worried I would regret it, but truthfully, it ended up being the best possible scenario. So I’m trying to get back on track this semester by taking two classes, which I think is considered full time in the English graduate program, so that’s fun. I forgot how serious everyone in class is. I am so exhausted afterward from simply trying to keep a straight face for 3 hours and not blurt out something ridiculous or accidentally throw a pen at someone for using too many big words. Sometimes it just ticks me off though (we get it, you are a genius), and I feel it warrants a pen to the forehead.
Getting back into the swing of homework is a swing I may never be that great at swinging on, but I’m doing my best. I’m
better slower than most people at just about everything I do, and it takes me an inordinate amount of time to write papers, even tiny ones. Luckily, I’m married to Student of the Year, and he is somehow able to make all A’s and take care of Parker while I squeak out sentences at a snail’s pace.
I haven’t written about being pregnant yet, but it deserves its own introductory post. In a nutshell, it’s just the hugest blessing and I’m also terrified. And it’s been 100% different this time around. But more on that later.