Yesterday my little pregnancy app on my ipod flipped to Week 38 and informed me that “with my birth plan, bags packed and nursery now prepared, it may be a good time to get some rest. Catch up with your partner, take naps, walk through the park, or go watch a movie.” The philosophy behind this wise advice being that I may have less time to do this soon. Also, I should be sure to eat well and rest in preparation for labor. (What!?! I shouldn’t be gearing up to run a half marathon?) My first thoughts were that at least I had a birth plan. No bag has been packed yet and nursery??? I’m supposed to finish a nursery? I still don’t think that the pack n play will fit by my side of the bed and I have nowhere to put baby anything. Also, I am not about to wash any baby stuff (that I have no place to store) because our washer is currently broken. Well, not broken per se, just not doing the spinning bit at the end. So sort of broken.
These wise nuggets were followed today by a pregnancy magazine’s advice (had to read something while I cross trained today since I am done running until Sunday) to:
Go out with the girls. (As if there were some way to get out with friends without having to figure out what to do with at least 4 children while we were gone.)
Sleep. And then sleep some more. (As if this weren’t dependent on the baby moving less, my husband not snoring, my eldest not running out of water in the middle of the night, my youngest not thumping against the wall and all sorts of other mitigating factors that drastically decrease sleep.)
Cram in some cinema. (As if I had any idea what was actually playing. I am so far off the movie radar that I have not idea if our movie theaters are still in business.)
Bask in my breakables. (Ha! As if the two breakable items that are still out in our house weren’t already six feet up.)
Wear white. (Um. Let’s think about late pregnancy. You wear what fits and seriously, my pregnancy induced clumsiness is enough to steer me completely away from ALL white clothing at this point.)
Sit in silence. (This one I do. When I get so fed up that I head to the basement to ignore screaming from my other children.)
So much completely unrelatable advice! Where, oh where, is the bucket list and grand advice for third time moms? Or does it simply become: Don’t go crazy (yet) or Try not to strangle your small children with too much energy who never listen and always do the opposite of everything you say? Or are we not supposed to be reading pregnancy magazines anymore except as a foray into some long forgotten world when we were allowed sleep and quiet and the ability to go to the bathroom all by ourselves?
You know you’re a third time mom when you are hunting through magazines in search of articles that will tell you how to simultaneously nurse a baby, deep clean the house, and prep dinner, all in thirty minutes.