What the hell was I thinking

No seriously… I ask myself what the hell was I thinking at 40 years of age when I thought “I am missing babies.”?

My two oldest at the time were 12 and 20… One almost out of the house the other almost in highschool. Years of “freedom” there, I had had at least 3 years of not having to cart kids everywhere I went. No cars full of toys, snack crap, and bottles. I was looking amazing. I just got promoted to pastries and desserts lead at the restaurant I worked at. Driving around in my burgundy convertible looking pretty darn cute if I do say so myself.

What possessed me, or my ovaries I should say, to get that baby twinge? I was suddenly looking at baby clothes. Ooooing and Ahhhing over booties and cute tiny sneakers. AND FOR THE RECORD… I am waaaaay to young to be a grandmother, so trust me, I would have kicked my daughter’s A** had she made me one. That was NOT the twinge I was having. I wanted a baby for me.

Let me tell you, having a baby at 40 is rough!! I am not even factoring in that I was in heart failure for over a year due to my pregnancy or that my son has Down syndrome and requires therapies and for him a couple of very serious surgeries. It kicks your butt every day running around after that little buggar. Just the other night I was sitting on the couch with my hubby, both of us looking and feeling like we had run a marathon. In my defense I have had bronchitis for the last 3+ weeks, and still trying to do everything I do. I looked at him and asked exasperated “Were the other two this exhausting??!!” He looked at me and what I thought was going to be a loving and supportive reply instead was “Naw…. You’re just getting old.” What a jackass right? He of course thought he had just told the funniest joke ever… that was until I punched him. And of course the subject of this blog post thought daddy was just HILARIOUS! Little traitor!

But here’s the thing… that is when I remembered why I missed babies. That little traitors’ laugh warmed my heart. It’s every time he takes my finger to take me some place or show me something. It’s when he brings a toy to me so I will play with him. It’s when he wakes up in the morning and I walk in to pick him up and he smiles up at me like I am the most wonderful mommy ever. It’s when he falls asleep on my chest, and I feel his breath on my arm…and he snores. It is in everything he does every day to fill my day and heart with unabashed joy and love. He is my sunshine and I thank my ovaries (most days) for that wonderful twinge.

Am I exhausted every damn day? Oh yeah without a doubt, I am dog tired at the end of the day. But realizing how much I love being a mommy and a mommy to my little demon makes it worth it even now at 43. Of course, don’t ask me to do it again!