Almost Obama, but just a Mama

So, I know I have been rather drugged up lately and not thinking very straight, but when I got a call this weekend letting me know that the final pre-election Obama rally was going to be 2 miles from my home, I got the fever.

What can I say?!? I haven't been this uninvolved in an election year since 2000. I felt like a needed a good dose of wholesale politics, large crowds, and screaming political madness.

Only a few obstacles stood in my way.

The first thing I had to do was figure out what to do with the kids. That was easily resolved: I quickly determined that it was high time to re-expose my children to a political rally. I want them to grow up to be involved, civicly minded citizens. Sure, we talk politics at home; I have taken them along to help me vote; I have had them march in parades and distribute leaflets; and they have been to rallies before. But, this one was bigger and better than what they have previously experienced. I talked it up and got Mia all excited about going.

Then, I began to address the second major issue. I determined that if we could park really close and I could slowly walk a limited distance and then find a place to sit, I would not be "over-doing" it. I made it to and from the car and sitting in my camp chair at Mia's soccer game on Saturday and into and out of Sacrament Meeting at church on Sunday. This was no different -- a short walk, one chance to get out of the house, and then I would be good and just take it easy.

The doctors had informed me that the baby would be fine, just small at this point -- we were only 4 days off of our 36 week goal, how much of a difference would it make? I also concluded that if this experience put me back into full-fledged labor and our baby came on election day it would make for a great story.

Everyone really needs a fabulous birth story. Mine includes coming a month early while my parents were on Christmas vacation in another state, after my mom decided to take a ride on a galloping donkey, justifying to herself that Mary rode a donkey while pregnant with baby Jesus (Apparently my mother missed the part in the retelling of all the Christmas stories that year where Mary went into LABOR after that donkey ride and had to give birth in a less than desirable location far from home.), barely making it to the hospital (which like the inn keeper almost turned her away when the doctor did not recognize her as a patient), and barely making it in time for an all-natural birth. This is a story with excitement and interest, and I figured maybe I could provide my newest little one with a similar tale with civicly minded undertones.

Mia almost came twice, once while walking neighborhoods for get-out-the-vote activities and once on election night at about 4 am when we were still waiting for precincts to report. But, these were only close calls, in the end she was just a boring scheduled c-section. This time could successfully be an action-packed adventure.

With my major obstacles addressed, we set off Monday night for Mia's parent teacher conferences with a plan to check out how close we could park to the fairgrounds. Then, having returned home for coats and hats for the kids, we returned to the school parking lot to make our covert path to the rally, not back into the school.

As we began to unload, Mia started whining that we only brought one stroller for Maggie; Maggie began crying and screaming that she had to take off her sleeveless Cinderella nightgown and put on real clothes and a coat to come along, and the moment that I set foot out of the car, despite all the drugs I had taken before, I started having more intense contractions.

First, I decided to be stubborn and will my way through the event -- everything will be fine once we get there; we are not going to let bad attitudes and a few little diversions dissuade us.

Then, I began to soften. How much fun would I have with my grouchy children, especially in three hours? Or four? Or even five? How much fun were they really going to have? Was I realistically up to the physical demands, not just of walking there, but of dealing with my kids at the event? What if I really did go into labor? Could I even make my way out of the crowds and through the traffic to get to the hospital? Was it worth it to have a baby that may have to spend extra time in the hospital if she came even four days earlier?

All of the sudden the fever of irrationality lifted. I was a pregnant mother of two with another on the way. What was I thinking?!? I began to remember that I am no longer in my early twenties with great flexibility to do the all-day, all-night political events. I heaved a sigh, readjusted to the reality of my life, loaded my kids and myself back in the car and went home.

Oh well, when thinking clearly, I guess I love being a mama more than Obama.