Moving is an activity that will sure unearth memories. In the process of preparing to move, I have been going through stuff trying to throw or give away everything possible before the movers get here. I found a journal of things that happened when I was still married to a male and my boys were 2 and 4 years old. I will simply enter them here verbatim from my notes:

Family life just isn't what it's cracked up to be. Where's the deep and abiding sense of satisfaction? I have a deep and abiding sense of pain where Ben broke my ribs before he was even born. That was four and a half years ago. Arthritis has set in. Along with post-partum depression. I thought it would go away. Now I have Buster (not his real name, but it oughta be) and double depression. (Sort of like double pneumonia, you know?)

Trying to maintain the expressionless demeanor of the clinically depressed patient is hard with two criminally inclined children around. They keep doing things that force expressions onto my face. Like throwing kittens into the swimming pool. Or at each other. Kittens make effective weapons. Both children looked as if they'd been to war after the kitten battle. (The kittens looked ok though.)

Kids not only make me depressed, they make me feel stupid. One day I was chewing Ben out over some minor infraction or other when he suddenly cried out, as if in alarm, "Mom, you've got hair on your lip!" When I tried to brush the offending wisp away, he scornfully said, "Not a hair. HAIR! Like Dad. A moustache! The lecture was over. We had to make an emergency trip to WalMart for some moustache bleach.

Buster likes to hit people. I had told a friend how mean he was before she came to visit one day. She came for lunch and was utterly charmed by Buster. He told her she was pretty. He sat on her lap and said "I like you." He nestled his head into her shoulder and smiled a smile that would have made angels swoon. As my friend was leaving she commented how unjust I was to call this precious boy "mean." She spoke too soon. Buster had found a yardstick and whacked her across the butt with it right at THAT MOMENT. I was so vindicated!

I've tried many "techniques" on these guys. One that is frequently recommended is simply ignoring them. I've experienced little success with this. For example, recently Buster was whining "Mom, Mo-ooom, MOOOOOOOOOOOM." I ignored him. So he yells "CONNIE, I'M TALKING TO YOU!" How do you ignore that from a two-year-old??

I nursed my babies. Nursing is just wonderful. Wonderful until you're ready to wean the kid and he's old enough to say "NO WAY!" Ben was two and saying "tittie, I want tittie!" His sperm donor was saying the same thing. I finally yelled "they're MY titties and I don't want anyone to touch them EVER AGAIN!" Then everyone was depressed. Except me. No one touched me for two hours.

Pregnancy, oh pregnancy. Really depressing stuff. My first pregnancy, I was enormous. People would come up to me, this is true, and say "are you expecting?" "No" I'd say, patting my belly, "this is a tumor." Well, karma got me. My next pregnancy, my baby had a tumor. I was even more enormous than the first time, so now people came up to me and asked if I was having twins. "No," I'd say, I'm having a baby and a tumor." Thank god I've had a hysterectomy. I'd probably have twin tumors the next time.

Pregnancy destroys your sex life. You know how many sexual positions you can get into when your belly alone weighs sixty-seven pounds? Two. And one involves your mouth. Not that anyone WANTS to get into those positions with you. Pregnancy is a lonely time.

The bodily sensations engendered by pregnancy could have been invented by the Marquis himself. I did know ahead of time that my ligaments would loosen up as a result of hormonal activity. I didn't know that a result of that would be that whenever I moved, the place where my pelvic bones join in the front would grate together with a sensation that resembles the sound made by a fingernail on a chalkboard.

Bodily functions of other sorts take on a new importance with pregnancy. While pregnant I discovered where every bathroom was within a 250 mile radius of my home. I also found out all the places you can pee without a bathroom. I discovered new uses for ziplock bags. (After use they can be used as water balloons to throw at those annoying other drivers on the road.) No, I wouldn't really do that. I was a dignified pregnant lady, even if I did have to pee every six and a half minutes.

Babies can be loads of fun before they are born. If you scrunch your belly up real close to your significant other, baby will usually respond with some fairly potent kicks. You don't have to be the only one awake at 2:30 am. When the SO is thoroughly awake from the tattooing on his kidneys, you can innocently say, "Isn't it wonderful to feel our baby move!"

To be continued.....