An Unexpected Expectation

So. You know when it's your kids' naptime and you immediately fall into the soft covers and then hear the little monsters climbing out to get you? Today isn't even one of those days and I'm STILL not asleep! Why, you ask? Oh, just because....the itching has begun. Not a physical itching. Well, I should say not an epidermal itching. It's the under your skin kind of thing. And I think it started with me looking at our computer desk. Dust mites, trash, cd's, oh my, dust mites, trash, cd's, oh my, dust mites, trash, cd's OH MY!!! It cannot be contained. I know that because it's spewed over into the kitchen with the dishes, plastic bags, lost toys, bits of food, and ingredients hoping to make it into a recipe before they rot in...the bag. And the same virus has spread into my room with baby stuff and dirty diapers and clothes and such.
And when a woman says, "I need to go buy clothes." You say, "Yes, m'am. You better hurry to the store before it closes." And if that woman has only bought two new shirts from the clearance rack in a whole year, you might want to add, "And I'll take the kids." But that's just hypothetical.
Most people may not believe this, but you can't jump up and start working out immediately after you've had a baby. In fact, you can't really even work out when you start feeling great and have some extra time. No, you've got to wait about two months for a secret reason. If you don't know, I'm sure you'll find out and if you do, yes, curse all the post-partum women. Because why on Earth would something be easy or comfortable for a woman who's had a baby? When the good Lord sent Adam and Eve out of the Garden of Eden, and told Eve that childbearing wouldn't be a sack of fun, he should've added, "And good luck losing the extra pounds" on their way out. And what about learning to do everything one-handed. I'm really good at eating cereal with my left hand without dripping on my baby now. Anyway, there's always the "awkward clothes" stage where you're in your pregnancy clothes and every morning you longingly look up at your not-pregnancy clothes and think, "Glory be, I'll be pregnant with another one by the time I fit in those again." And the real truth is, you won't ever, ever fit in them. So if you know any fat people who'd like to loan me their clothes for a couple of months, PLEASE let me know soon. Or I'm going shopping and there's no stopping me.
And what about the horse pills? Yes, you heard it. The fat-o multivitamins. You just have to keep on poppin' em. And all the while you can't eat spicy foods or excessive amounts of chocolate or you'll be up all night with the baby. And if you're me, it'll be your husband up with the baby so please don't make me mad or I'll eat some Flamin' Hot Cheetos. And if you've ever had those, you'll understand that they're both red and fiery going in AND coming out. But so addictive.
And did you know it takes stretch marks a long time to turn white? That's all I'll say about that.
I didn't even mention the worst part, which most of you can assume is the actual getting the baby out. But I can look at my baby every day and smell his cute little nursing-breath and smell my stinky little spit-up shirt and touch the soft little peed-on blanket and think, "It was all worth it."