I try to be prepared for things.
Case in point: I have a will. Well, sort of. My girlfriends and I have had an ongoing joke for years that if I happen to bite it anytime soon (heaven forbid), they get my shoes. (You should know: I. LOVE. SHOES. I have all kinds and in all colors.)
I told James my wishes, to have certain pumps and flats divvied out, and he willingly accepted the invitation to be my estate executor. (Which is to say, he told me I was crazy.) I even jotted down a list of friends and coordinating shoes in my journal!
See? Prepared with a capital "P."
Other cases of Mama Leisha preparation: When it is raining, I always have my umbrella with me. (This hair of mine--which is really a naturally curly throw back to the 70's afro--will dissolve if it gets wet.) I carry lipstick and Pepto Bismal in my purse. I take packages of fruit snacks with me when grocery shopping with my kids. I have flashlights for power outages and first aid kits for when I'm chopping onion and pretending to be a top chef in my kitchen.
Recently, there have been big changes afoot in my simple, lovely life. Preparation for them has been key, as it was Goethe who said that "he who lives must be prepared for changes." I have prepared freezer meals and washed crib bedding and cleaned out closets. I have read books and online forums on "how older children adjust to having a new baby in the home." I have meditated and prayed.
And here's what I have learned: That nothing can fully prepare you for bringing a third child into your home. Nothing can prepare you for the love or the anxiety you will feel. Nothing can prepare you for the lack of sleep, the baby blues, and the joys over the "gas bubble smiles." I believe that nothing can fully prepare you one-hundred-percent for parenthood.
I do what I can. I do the best I can. I try not to let my acute epiphany rattle me; choosing to "cope" by running to the grocery store instead. To buy these:
Because if I can't be completely prepared for my sweet, new baby...
My bum can be.