Thriller

When I announced my pregnancy with Secondborn, the family went slightly hysterical. On bad days I replay the tape of the announcement and get an immediate cheer-up from the reaction. After the shock wore off, sheer thrill took over. In true fashion, Secondborn arrived in a way that was frightening and thrilling.

At 3 weeks early, my labor started while Hubby was out of town. By 1pm two dear friends helped me overcome my denial. I was in fact in labor and holding my knees shut would NOT work. At 4:00pm it was confirmed that I would be having a baby that evening, but I was allowed to “go home and walk” (Army standard practice). Instead I sped to the airport, picked up my Beloved, and handed off Firstborn to a friend who was amazing under pressure. I picked up my Beloved at 5:15pm. I was back in a hospital bed at 8:00pm. Secondborn cried at 2:12am. Having to text my husband that I was in labor and heading to the hospital while he sat in an airport during a lay-over was nerve-wracking. Picking him up and knowing he would see the birth of our second son was a thrill. Hehe! (Reread that in Michael Jackson’s voice. Thank you.)

I apologize for the blogging hiatus; when a baby is born 3 weeks early and technically premature, there are a lot of surprises. When we FINALLY got to bring our baby home, the radio happened to be on the 80s station and Thriller came on. As I looked back to check on the man-cub I saw something amazing. His arms were raised with hands in the thriller pose. He also had the hiccups, which moved his head TO THE BEAT. It wasn’t the Thriller sideways head-bob, but the head bounce timing was spot on. It was at that moment I decided this was one of the coolest kids ever created. What newborn inherently knows the moves to Thriller? Oh, that’d me mine.

Motherhood is a lot like “The Thriller”. Getting up every 2 hours to feed and then weigh dirty diapers brings out the funk of 40,000 years. Terror is a major tenant of raising small children- there are many sights that almost stop the heart. I’ve done a bit of screaming and now wish I could have stopped the sound before I made it. (What mother hasn’t struggled with lost-temper yelling?) I admit that there have been times where I’ve just closed my eyes and wished it was all m imagination. The boys lurk around and seem insatiable day and night- right now my nights do seem to last eternally.  I just try to remember that this is a time I will look back on and with a smile and some well-timed shoulder raises.

Devoted motherhood has a way of overtaking you. It’s not unlike watching perfectly dignified people standing around until Thriller starts playing. Even the most stoic can’t stop from doing a head-bob to the music. Now that I am finally home after almost a week in the hospital, I am fully engrossed in mothering 2 little ones. I am thankful that the strung-out zombie look is popular, because I am rocking the Mombie look. Make no mistake; my dance moves are better than ever.

Every parent has been there- we’ve transformed into something different and can’t look at life the same way. The coolest and most sophisticated among us are reduced to wiping behinds and measuring time in increments of VeggieTales or Elmo. It’s just a stage, but it so familiar that other mothers of various ages can’t help but run up, surround the new mother, and offer all manner of help (wanted and not) to the new member of the ranks. Grocery shopping with a car seat is a universal invitation- soon I am totally surrounded without escape. All hope of reaching the bananas is lost.  If only my internal monologue could be recited in the voice of Vincent Price.

I’ve missed you, my friends. I haven’t died and I’m not living under a rock. I am just a new mom- again- with a son who needs a lot of special appointments right now. My newest thrill is taking over a lot of my life, and there are times it is terrifying. The mix of terror, classic moves, and total exhilaration; it’s a pretty good description of motherhood in this house and I wouldn’t trade it…’cause it’s a thriller.

PS- In the spirit of new mothers receiving WAY too much advice and instruction, particularly with the first baby, I thought this was fitting. Sometimes it’s not about knowing all the right moves. It’s about having a great time dancing with your friends and fellow Mombies at your side.

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