just.stop.touching.me.
December 2nd, 2009
People are asking me now when my due date is, now that I am really visibly pregnant. If I don’t answer quickly enough they start guessing: January? Februrary? March?
HA! Try 25 days??
People are asking me now how I’m “feeling.” I give them the nice version of the answer — Oh, great! Just fine thanks! — that is really floating around in my head. The REAL answer? I am 36 weeks pregnant with my 3rd child in 4 1/2 years. How the hell do you think I’m feeling?!? My back hurts. My sciatic nerve hurts. I have heartburn. I have to pee every 3 minutes. I can’t walk properly. I can’t bend over. I can’t tie my own shoes. I can’t sleep. I’m exhausted. I have leg cramps at night.
Oh, I’m fine. Really. I am thankful that I do not have swollen ankles or hands; I am thankful that I do not have any morning sickness. I am thankful that my job is not physically demanding.
What is grating on my nerves the most lately is that there seems to be a never-ending stream of people touching me. The girls, to name a few. Maddy has to sit on my lap for every meal; Maja is in my lap when Maddy isn’t: story time, bed time, wake-up time. At any given moment I can have two kids sitting in my lap — touching my face, yanking up my shirt to talk to the baby or caress my belly. Maddy even tried to feed the baby some milk via my belly button. It never fails that one of them wants to be carried up or down the stairs. If I’m not standing up there is someone crawling on me. I try to spend a lot of time standing these days.
Direct invasion of my personal space is a given.
I was complaining (yes, complaining) of this constant state of touching to Richard the other day. His response was that I should be glad I’m not living in the 18th century. But, then, would I not have had a nanny? Apparently not, because according to him we would have been poor farmers, not rich noble people. So, there we would be — poor farmers with our 17 children because HE won’t stop touching me. Also because we would have been too dumb to know any better.
So, here I am at 4:30am having a few moments of peace and quiet. Well, maybe not so much peace as Emerson is sitting about 2 ft. away from my chair looking up at me with his big brown eyes, begging me to pick him up and put him on my lap for some cuddle time.
Who can resist that? Self-inflicted.
Filed under Uncategorized | Comments (7)7 Responses to “just.stop.touching.me.”
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at least there are cupcakes.
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the only thing worse to me than being touched while pregnant?
being touched while nursing.
I hated to be touched in the rare moments when I wasn’t being suckled.
I wanted to scream.
Cry.
Throw things.
My skin crawled.
I almost punched my cat once, and I love her second best in the world. My husband? Well, he was just out of luck.
I think it’s funny that most people that I know who either are or have “Irish Twins”? Were formula fed/feeding.
Love to you. Think we might be able to squeeze a lunch in before Christmas?
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freeformkatia Reply:
December 2nd, 2009 at 8:17 am
was just thinking of you this morning! yes, would love to do lunch.
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This really speaks to me, Katia. I never was a touchy feely type of person so being Brown Owl to 30 little girls ages 6 to 9 brought on a whole crew of kids wanting to hang off my hands. I love little kids but I like to keep my personal space large. Never fear, they grow up eventually, sooner than you think. 500 miles is a bit too much personal space, in my opinion. lol
PS. Clare can snuggle on my lap any time she likes.
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Only 25 days left of having milk fed to the baby through your belly button!? I say: enjoy. You’ll relish the memory in a few years!
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Leave it to Richard to make you feel thankful for your current situation. 3 children are better than 17.
And here I’ve been enjoying the touchy/feely crap, but it’s my 1st pregnancy. Maybe if we have a 3rd, I’ll be annoyed too.
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What you need is a cat. They only cuddle with you when you absolutely don’t want them to, or when you absolutely need them to.
I totally understand the ‘quit touching me’. Why some people, even complete strangers, think it’s okay to touch a pregnant woman, when they would never dream of going up to some guy with a huge beer belly, is beyond me!!
Hope the belly babe hangs out till your done your list of things to do.
And you get that Honey-do list finished.
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