When you are a mommy, especially a mommy of small ones, there is no peace and quiet. Almost never do you get a moment to yourself to collect those tenuously brilliant thoughts you once had. I’m convinced that God was looking out for me. In a bizarre way, but still looking out for me, nonetheless.
***TOO MUCH INFORMATION ALERT***
During pregnancy, a woman’s body betrays her. In every way imaginable and many unimaginable. This is not a one-time deal either. It is an ongoing relationship we have with our quisling bodies. It extends beyond the pregnancy and, I am guessing, well into the college years. My entire digestive system has joined forces with my uterus. They hate me. I just know it. My darn uterus cannot keep its hands off a child to save its life. Nor will it let them go once they are firmly rooted in its humble abode. My GI tract has collaborated with said womb to torture me to the point of exhaustion and distraction.
That being said, when God allowed this sinful planet called Earth to curse me with irritating bowels, He was indirectly blessing me with the spare seconds of silence that I need to pull it all together mother my offspring the way they so desperately require.