April Fool's

Today is April Fool's Day.  Go figure, I had to go to the gynecologist for my 6-week post-partum checkup.  Bet ya'll wanted to know that!  But the joke wasn't on me this time.  I'm NOT pregnant!  And it looks like I won't be again, albeit by some freak medical accident.  I got released for work (boo!), got the ok to start working out again (even though I already was) and I got my TB test read.  2 birds, one stone and all that.  Gotta love health care!

When I look at Luna, who's 6 weeks old today, I wonder if I made the right decision, the one for permanent sterilization (again).  I love babies, I love kids, and I love being a mommy.  Then I look at the other kids, the ones who can walk and talk (back) and demand money and rides and ridiculous things like Polly Pockets and Littlest Pet Shop shit and those littlle metal cars that hurt like a sonofabitch when you step on them, and know that I definitely made the right choice.  We planned it well, according to my husband, who also loves kids but mostly once they are able to listen and play and tag along with him on his little adventures.  We will have grandkids before the house is empty.

I think about this.  The older kids are 15, 11, 10 and 10.  The little kids are 3, 2, and 6 weeks.  He's most likely right.  I wonder if I will like the grandkids as much as I like the kids.  Then I start to wonder who will be the first to come home and say the words "Mom, you're gonna be a GRANDMA!"  I panic.  I won't be ready for that.  I'm only 34, for God's sake!  I mean, I have time.  I'm not expecting this for a few years (hopefully), but definitely before I am 50.  Weird.  Grandma.  I guess the joke's on me, after all.

So, will 50 be the new 20?  Will it be my "prime"?  What constitues "prime" anyway?  Is it when you are happiest, most complete?  Because if it's when you are happiest, I think my prime was when I was about ten.  If it's when you are most "complete" I would tend to believe that prime will only come in old, old age, minus any sickness.  I guess I like to speculate that things can only get better from here on out.  (Not that they are bad now, or anything.)  The kids will get older and stop doing stupid shit, or the stupid shit they do will be less destructive, or the sherriff will eventually have to worry about the stupid shit they do instead of me.  Here's to hoping that they stop doing stupid shit altogether. 

And then the words every mom loves to hear bright and early on any given Friday, April Fool's Day or not:  "Mom, can you get Zane's Batman motorcycle out of my hair?"  Yep, this is definitely MY prime, and that was no April Fool's joke.