Hell Week

Welcome to Hell Week.

What is Hell Week? Glad you asked.

Hell Week is the final crunch before your husband goes on paternity leave, and he works late every day trying to get things done. You, meanwhile, are 38 weeks pregnant, with a head cold, and a toddler with cabin fever. It's becoming increasingly apparent to you that you cannot go ANYWHERE alone with your child unless he is strapped securely in a straight jacket  stroller. Seriously, nowhere. Not even, you learned today, on a walk down the street. Because, seriously, your belly grows gigantic proportions every night, and the giant maternity tunics that fit you last week just laugh at you now as you try to button them over your girth. What I'm saying through all of this, is that you can not keep up with your kid anymore. You just cannot. You try, but you cannot. When he bolts away from you in the store, all you can do is helplessly hold your breath and pray for no big crashes while you hurry after him in that ridiculously pregnant way, shifting your weight from one side to the other in this weird, frantic shuffle. When you take him outside for a walk and he tears off down the street to throw rocks and talk to strangers, you are acutely aware of how little control you actually have over the situation. And, by the way, I think your kid is aware of it, too.

I've been surviving through this week one day at a time, barely. I've had a lot of help from cocoa almond butter and frozen waffles, thank you, Trader Joe's. Frozen food has become my beacon of salvation. My level of cooking right now is pretty much: Remove from freezer. Place in oven. Wait twenty minutes. Serve to family and feel like I've really accomplished something.That's what it's like around here right now. I'm on a roll, people. Winning.

This evening, as I prepared frozen chicken with frozen risotto, I got to thinking: Tomorrow is the last day of Hell Week! That means, there's only one more really tough day, until...the rest of my life changes forever. That hit me like a stun gun. I mean, really, is there anything more game changing than a new baby? These past four years have been so transformative for me. I've shed my skin and become someone completely new again and again: A wife. A mother. A mother for the second time. who will I be when the baby comes? I'm at that breathless moment on top of the roller coaster, before you go careening down and all around. Will the ride be as hard the second time around? will it be harder? Will it be even happier? I guess I'll know soon.