Perfecting The Waddle

You know when you get so big in your pregnancy that the waddle inevitably finds you? It sneaks in, like an unwelcome house guest, and decides to make you feel frumpy, fat, and flat-out fatigued.

The waddle is here, people. It's here to stay until this baby comes.

That being said, the waddle did arrive much, much earlier when I was pregnant with my first.

Today, I was sitting in the kitchen, waiting for the toddler's Spongebob macaroni and cheese to cool off, and I realized the house was particularly quiet. It wasn't the oh-no-my-little-one-is-doing-something-he-shouldn't-be quiet. It was the my-little-one-is-asleep-somewhere kind of quiet.

And sure enough, when I waddled into the living room, this blessed sight met my eyes.

This afternoon, I waddled into the thankfully-not-too-long line to vote. (On a side note, there should be a separate line for pregnant ladies. At least 8 month pregnant ladies. Don't you agree??) Here's my thing about voting: If you don't vote, you have absolutely no right to complain. There. I said it.

For the next couple months, the hubbs is back and forth and all over the place with residency interviews. It's fun to hear about the different places and programs. It's reminding me that there is life after this little one arrives--life full of its usual big decisions.

But for now, it's eight month pregnant momma hoping that I don't go into labor while my husband is gone. And, of course, my side kick is being toted everywhere. I'm waddling for sure now, but able to do so much more this time around. It's funny how necessity exposes our true potential. When I was pregnant with the toddler, I would prop my feet up and feel exhausted if I'd gone grocery shopping. Now, getting up at 6:00 most mornings, showering, going to meetings, running to the grocery store, toting the toddler around on top of my big belly, cooking dinner, cleaning the house, and hitting the pillow around 11:30 are the norm. 

I'm snuggling him. I'm cuddling him. I'm playing cars and exhausting myself further and further, because I know it will never be just us two again.

Don't get me wrong. I cannot, cannot, cannot wait to hold little brother. I can't wait to smother him with kisses, bathe him in my tears, and thank God to finally have him in my arms. I can't imagine my heart doubling in size, but it's a thrilling prospect. I can't wait to learn his little personality, to laugh with him, to tuck him in at night. Oh, I just can't wait. 

But in the meantime, in the next few weeks, it's me and Big Dude. My sweet boy I've had all to myself for two and a half years. 

Tonight, the toddler and I had a dinner date just the two of us. We went to one of his favorite restaurants. We laughed. He stole half my pickle. I shared big bites with him. We talked about firetrucks. And when it came time to leave, I waddled out, holding his little hand and thinking, "This is perfect."

I'm perfecting the waddle. It's here. It means change is on the way. I'm learning you can waddle to your eighth errand carrying a toddler with his arms around your neck while you balance your purse and try to remember that thing you need to get that you keep forgetting to write down.

Little brother, we can't wait for you to come be a part of our crazy lives. How wonderful it will be to be chasing two little boys around. I can't wait. And thank heavens I won't have to waddle. :)