I wrote several posts in the last couple days. But then I deleted them because they were total downers. Not that I'm completely depressed or anything - but the feelings that I'm feeling like venting are the ones that are feeling "blah" with pregnancy exhaustion and slight nausea. But that's all I'll say about that.
This morning, as I lay on the family room floor trying to get the energy up to move, I realized something. It's not the having three kids that's making this hard. It's having Asher.
I remember being pregnant with Asher and laying on the family room floor while Naomi played quietly beside me. I'd read her a book, she'd move on to something else, she come over and sit by me for a minute, then she'd move back on to something else. Just having me around was enough. And, I think she was reacting to my obviously feeling a little ill. She was nurturing in her best 2-year-old way.
This morning, Isaiah was doing the same thing. He (being a little more cuddly by nature than Naomi ever was) lay snuggled up next to me, his legs propped up on my bent legs. He played with the two cars in his hands and just lay there with me for a good 15 minutes. Meanwhile, Asher was throwing toys, jumping on both Isaiah and me, and generally being crazy. At one point he did come over, give me a slight half-hug, lay his hand on my cheek for a second and then declare "Now you happy. Get up!"
Asher's just a different kind of child. Not bad, just different. Although, I admit, this morning his differences seem a little bad to me since they're keeping me from lazing about as much as I'd like to.
On second thought, maybe the title of this post should be Four Different Kids. Baby #4 is the size of a blueberry this week!