It is the eve of my due date and we are having a spooky thunder and lightening storm. The weather is changing and I can’t help but think that something is in the air. I feel like crap, kind of premenstrual and crampy. Could just be exhaustion but could also be something else…?
I was wondering today if any other mothers lie in order to get away from an incessant four-year-old child if even for a brief moment. I often say, “Mummy has to go potty,” even when I don’t, just so I can sit on the other side of a door from her for a few peaceful moments. This is the only excuse I have left that she doesn’t object to. Something about my being pregnant has caused her to shadow me like a probation officer. I suppose watching her mother transform before her very eyes has brought up some insecurities. So getting some alone time involves being very sneaky. This is what we as parents are reduced to. Like prisoners in our own homes.
I am exhausted by the endless demands of make believe: “Pretend I am your baby and I can’t talk and you see me on the floor and say…………” “Pretend, I am a princess and you found me in the woods.” “Pretend, you can’t find me.” Esther’s appetite for this kind of make believe scenarios knows no satiation. I, on the other hand, find it mind-numbingly boring at times. I can’t get into the role at all, especially since there is no room for improvisation. Four-year-olds make for tyrannical directors. They won’t tell you the rules or the lines but expect you to get it all perfect on the first take. My best role these days is as the tired pregnant lady who is always saying, “Mummy’s too tired for that right now.”