There is no rest in bed rest.

Laying around all day is HARD.  When you are a mother of two little boys under the age of 4 you never get a moment to just sit and enjoy life passing you by.  You begin to crave solitude and the thought of a lazy day can leave you weeping with longing.  Your first thought when told that you MUST lie down and let others do what needs to be done is "hallelujah- finally!"  But that feeling of relief is quickly gone, only to be replaced with anxiety, guilt, frustration and anger.  Anxiety because you start to think about all the things that need to be done, and 'how is it all going to be accomplished while I lay here?'  Guilt comes in when you see how things are going to be accomplished- people who love you drop everything and rush in to help.  It's incredibly difficult to let go and allow others to wash your floor, cook you food and fold your underwear.  Do you know how much I struggle every time I ask someone to get me a drink of water?  It's such a simple thing, and my brain tells me that I am perfectly capable of getting my own drink, so what in the world am I doing making someone else get up for me?  I've had long talks with myself about my need for independence and also about acceptance.  I'm not sure yet if I'm listening or not, but I've learned to relax and prioritize a lot more.  I think.

The frustration and anger come into play because I am the mother of two boys under the age of 4 who have realized that mommy can't chase them down and beat them anymore.  The first couple weeks I was still able to intimidate them with looks and voice, but recently that has lost it's impact.  They now stand just out of my arm's reach, hitting each other over the head with t-ball bats while making eye contact with me, like they are daring me to do something about it.  You should have seen Mitch's face the first time I threw the nearest thing (a stuffed bear) at his head.  I think I also screamed something inane like "Stop hitting!".  Unfortunately that only worked for a few days before they caught on that they could duck and weave their way through mayhem with minimal injuries.  It turns out that Mitch is actually a natural runner in the serpentine fashion.

I've had to re-evaluate what's important for long term child development to get into a disciplinary frame of mind.  For instance: is it vital to their upbringing that I get up to stop Mitch from taking a swing at his brother's head with a 2 ft rubber shark as Jack continuously rides his bike past the doorway where Mitch is lurking?  Since they are both laughing I decide that no, it's not.  Now I only move for screams and property damage, and honestly the kids seem to be thriving.  Maybe I'll have to employ this reasoning after I'm allowed back into the fray.  Actually, it might not even be up to me.  We will be outnumbered since there will be three of the little monkey's running around and I might just be tucked into a defensive position until they leave for college.