Of All The Things I’ve Lost…

Having a baby seems to make pretty much everything in your life swell. Now, by swell I’m not talking hunky-dory. I’m referring to when something enlarges well beyond its natural capacity.

First, there’s the obvious – the abdomen. Although the sideshow-type ballooning does go down after the bouncy bundle arrives, let’s face it gals, your stomach is never going back to where you put it before pregnancy.

Then there’s the hips. I was under the impression that bone didn’t stretch (and I took AP Biology in High School). But judging by my pre- and post-pregnancy jeans, my teacher lied her way through that lesson, because the pockets are definitely getting further apart.

Another obvious one… the chest. I know, I know. The body has to ramp up production before delivery. But I find it truly unfair that on top of every other discomfort endured during pregnancy, we must also suffer the inflating chest. And then, as nursing mothers can attest, there’s nothing quite like the freakish disappearing act that takes place post-feeding, especially if the baby will only nurse on one side.

They say if you’re expecting a boy, that even the husband does some maternity swelling. This one I actually don’t mind so much, except of course if the husband decides to complain that he can now “pinch an inch” (almost) while you’re busy watching stretch marks the size of the San Andreas fault emerge all over your body.

But, I don’t feel that I was misled. I knew my body was going to inflate as pregnancy progressed. The various swellings and stretchings were very well documented. So, when it happened, I wasn’t at all surprised.

The one thing I wasn’t quite prepared for however was the only think that shrunk after having a baby (or rather two, in my case). My mind.

And today was one of those days when I really missed it.

Since Elijah’s nails were starting to resemble something out of a horror movie (post monster transformation), I decided today would be a good nail clipping day. It’s actually an event around here because of how much the activity is hated. Before we mention nails to the kids we have to be sure we have bribery. In today’s case… white chocolate chips, one for each finger and toe.

The chips held out and so did the patience. The nail clipping was successful. But somewhere between putting the nail bits in the garbage and going to rescue Dylan from his naptime prison, I misplaced the nail clippers.

These are special nail clippers. They’re baby sized. And yes, I realize they sell them and we could just get another pair. But our nail-clipper-hating children have already bonded with these clippers. I feared the repercussions of having to introduce new ones.

And so I scoured the house. I overturned couch cushions. I rummaged through the garbage (I did throw out those nail clippings, after all). I looked on countertops. I even peeked into the graham cracker box. No clippers.

Distraught over this blow to our family’s rhythm of daily living, I cleaned the kids up after lunch and we all went upstairs to play. Then, almost as an after thought, I decided to check the medicine cabinet (where we normally keep the nail clippers). Low and behold, there they were. Somewhere between putting the nail bits in the garbage and going to rescue Dylan from his naptime prison, I had put the nail clippers away.

Random side note: I often hear people say that the thing they were looking for was in the last place they looked. Have you ever thought of the irony of that statement? Of course it was in the last place you looked. Would you really keep looking after you found it? Psst! Lean in, I’ve got a secret for you. It will always be in the last place you look.

And that’s where the nail clippers were – in the last place I looked.

If only we knew where the “last place” was when we started looking. Then we could look in the “last place” first and save ourselves a lot of time.

By the way, I’m sure that’s where my mind is too. And when I finally look in that “last place” my mind will be there waiting – a little dusty maybe, but hopefully no worse for the wear disuse.

Because despite how not crazy I am about all the “swell” stuff that comes along with having kids, it’s really the thing I’ve lost that I miss the most.