Tag Archives: Milestones

Three Months and Going Strong…

So, Baby L is a little over three months old now (can you BELIVE that?!) and I am, more and more, getting the hang of being a mom. You know, sometimes I still have little freak outs because she starts crying spontaneously and I have no idea why. And sometimes I just want to take a nap so badly that my body aches. But for the most part now, there are things that I am confident of. I know that Baby L will smile when I come to pick her up in the morning from her sleeper. And I know that she will want to cuddle in the afternoon and that it has to be with me, no one else will do. And I know that she isn’t usually fussy unless she wants to be held or is tired. Knowing these things makes me feel pretty confident that I am doing a decent job a being a parent. Recognizing the tone in her cries and being able to translate their meanings makes me feel pretty damn good about things. Because at first, I was fairly certain that she just cried to make me cry. Or just to make me feel completely inept. (Both of which, she succeeded at on a regular basis.) But now, even with the panic of this cold and the mucus and the little sad look she gets on her face when she is uber-stuffy, I feel pretty prepared to be her mom, no matter what that entails. I’m pretty proud of myself for that.

Baby L has been sleeping through the night for quite a while now (almost immediately after she started sleeping in the Fisher Price Newborn Sleeper contraption that I can not speak highly enough of) and she takes semi-regular naps througout the day, but she likes to be part of the action. So, she spends a lot of her time during the day, fighting naps because she won’t be able to see what’s happening on “90210”. (And yes, we watch “90210” together every morning because we are nerds and we can’t get enough…and by “we”, I mean…you know, ME.) She likes it when I kiss the bottoms of her feet. She likes to sit in the beanbag and stare confusedly at the Apple logo on my phone when I try to take her picture. (Which causes her to make really unhappy looking faces and makes getting a smiling baby picture next to impossible.)  She is perplexed by her five-year-old cousin who has a wealth of pent-up energy which he expels by leaping around the house like a maniac for hours on end. She likes Grandma’s rocking chair. And she likes taking naps in  our bed over any other place.

My little nugget is getting all this personality and I am just so…so…I don’t even know what the word is that I’m looking for…elated? Yes. But also, sort of sad when I think that these times of cuddling are getting fewer and further between and my tiny little girl is growing into a…well…person!

I have a million thoughts to post here on the daily and I have been so busy with nose-suckers and diapers that I haven’t had a chance, but I plan to get back into a regular pattern of blogging THIS WEEK. Thanks for hanging in there with me, you guys rock my face off!

 

The Big Chill (Errr…Cold, Rather)

So, I know I promised a post. And I have been writing one in my head. But then, Baby L got a cold. And I immediately looked up all of her symptoms (snot, snot, and then some more snot) on web MD baby and was convinced that she had whooping cough. And ten everyone sat around and watched me have about 37 heart attacks. Because I’m quite entertaining as it turns out. So there were many after-hours nurse calls and there was an appointment with a new doctor. All of which confirmed that I was doing everything possible to relieve my precious little thing…but still there wa the snot. So the new doctor told me to give her 2ml of Benadryl. And I did, even though I thought that Benadryl was a little extreme…so I had 37 more heart attacks. But Baby L slept like a champ and woke up smiling and happy as a cute little clam.

All was going well until I fed her. And ten she started spitting up. And not your usual tiny little dribble, either. It was a river of mucusy, thick disgustingness. And it went on like this all day. And by outfit number four, I started to think, Oh my GOD my baby is going to starve to death!” Because, you know, it wasn’t stressful enough to go to bed every night thinking that she was going to choke in her sleep. Or that the humidifier was going to spontaneously combust and the whole house would catch fire while we slept. No. Now my baby was starving. And we were both covered in mucus. (I know there is probably a movie image that I could insert here for comparison, but I am too drained to think of it. Feel free to insert your own.)

Of course there was another call to the nurse. And of course she told me what I already know and assured me that Baby L was just getting rid of all the nasty stuff from the congestion. But I still wanted to bang my head against the wall until I passed out. (I resorted to Pinot Grigio.) And MB, if he wasn’t sure before, is now painfully aware of the extent of my untreated anxiety. But…after a couple of small bottles of clear pedialyte and a good night sleep, Baby L is alive and steadily trying to figure out how to grab her feet. There has been very little mucus. There has been very little snot. And no one has had to change their clothes. And it is almost 9am!

Success!

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I Have Returned…

I’m not even going to discuss the fact that it took AT&T almost TWO WEEKS to make my internet work at the new place. Nope. Not gonna talk about that. Because, as tired and frustrated as I currently am, I would likely go batshit crazy if I had to think about it anymore. The only thing that matters is, the internet is on now. And I can finally update my BLOG!!! And, if you’ll forgive me, I’m not really even sure where to start…so…a LIST!

1. Two weeks ago, MB, Baby L and I moved across town into a house with the family. This has been mostly a positive experience. I love his family, we have a huge master bedroom and the much needed privacy that I was worried about not having, and I have help with Baby L pretty much whenever I need it. These are all positive things. But then there is the issue of living with another child. One who never, EVER sits down or stops jumping. This is definitely taking some getting used to. But I have learned to lock doors behind me to prevent any sort of unwanted child interaction and that seems to have worked. Most of the time.

2. Our giant master bedroom is completely insanely messy because, after we got all of our clothes hung up in the closet and boxes stacked on top, all of the closet shelves fell down. This has since been fixed. And then has fallen again, leaving a crazy pile of who knows what all over the floor and nowhere to put it until more shelving is installed. Needless to say, there are, because of lack of a closet, still boxes stacked in the room. And they are driving me INSANE. Because, internet, if I have to live in someone else’s house, I just need there to be a whole lot of order.

3. Baby L will be THREE WHOLE MONTHS OLD on Sunday and I can’t freaking believe it. She’s cooing and smiling and clutching things and being ridiculously cute and perfect and I still have days where I can’t believe I actually had a BABY. But, I have to say, it is so amazing to get to see all the new things she does and new facial expressions she makes. And I can’t help but love dressing her up in adorable little outfits. Dolls never appealed to me as a kid, but man, I love dressing this kid!

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4. Is it weird that at almost three months, I can feel little tooth nubs in her mouth? Isn’t it quite early for that, y’all?

5. Wedding plans are in the works! And that’s all I am really going to say now, because I want to get it all planned out, but I will tell you this; will probably take place two months from today and will involve some bright lights and an Elvis or two. (Let the diet begin!!!)

That’s really all the time I have for now, internet, but I will be catching up on all of your blogs TODAY! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a diaper to attend to. Not mine. Just clarifying.

 

Open Letter to Baby L at Two Months

Dear Lilah,

In two days, you will be exactly two months old. It is really hard to believe that you have been with us that long, but then, at the same time, ridiculous to think that it hasn’t been longer. You have become the center of our universe and I can’t remember the days before you came. This is not at all a bad thing. In fact, this is the kind of thing that I might have thought, as a single person in my twenties, I might have hated, but have realized that I actually really love and appreciate. You are honestly the joy in my every day.

A big part of that “joy” I mention stems from the fact that you have started to sleep at night. When it is appropriate. I bought you this new sleeping contraption (because all of the reviews were written by new moms whose children didn’t sleep ANYWHERE, just like you) which you seem to enjoy more than anything we’ve previously tried. And it is glorious and easily portable and it has saved me from life on the couch. As much as I appreciate that cuddle time that you and I shared on a nightly basis, I did not enjoy sleeping in the living room. (Which became infested with spiders right about the time we brought you home from the hospital. And, as I’m sure you will know by the time you read this, your mom is terrified of spiders. TERRIFIED. I hope you someday appreciate my renegade spider murders.)

Currently, your father and I are attempting to prepare to move in with your grandma, aunt and cousin at the end of this month. This is going to be a major event for me because I am not used to living with family and your cousin is only four and I still get super nervous when he is around you. We have decided, however, that for the time being, this is the best option for everyone (mostly you) because your father and I will be able to save money while I am not working and can stay home with you and not fret about bills. I’d always thought that if I ever had a child, I would want to be with her as much as possible and that I would want to be the one to teach her things and mold her into a caring, generous and kind individual and we think that this, for the next few months, will help us build a nest egg and a foundation for how you will be raised. I’m excited and nervous at the same time. But I would do anything to ensure that you have the best things that I can give you.

You are smiling all the time now and I am convinced that you think that I am hilarious and that you will laugh any day now. Your Grandma J seems to think that she will be the one who first makes you laugh but I am sure that it will be me. You coo and widen your eyes when I speak to you and you try to mimmick the faces that I make. Unfortunately, you do not like it when I try to take video of anything that you do with my phone and you immediately stop being the conversational little girl and start to whimper or fuss. Needless to say, I have many videos of you in which you are initially smiling and then, within seconds, you hate everything. I am hoping that this is not an indication of how you will be during moments like your first steps or things of that nature.

A couple of days ago, your grandmother, for the first time ever that I can remember, told me that she is proud of me for being such a good mom to you. At the time, although I’d fully heard her say the words, I couldn’t comprehend what she meant. And in thinking about it, I was reminded of what kind of relationship I want to have with you. I want to make sure that there is never a doubt in your mind that I am already, and always will be, proud to call you my daughter. And I hope that we will have the kind of relationship in which we will not only love each other, but respect and try to understand each other. Because what is most important to me is to have a part in the kind of person that you become, but to also get to KNOW what kind of person that is.

Your father and I are very much looking forward to every next day with you and every single thing you do is new and beautiful and exciting for us. We love you to the moon and back.

Love,

Mom

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One Month (Better Late than Never…)

So, when Baby L was born, I decided that I wanted to write her a letter for every month of her first year and then every year on her birthday after that and give them all to her when she turns 18. And, believe it or not, I actually found the time to write her a letter when she was four weeks old. Today, I sat down to start her TWO MONTH (I cannot BELIEVE that she will be 8 weeks old on Saturday!) letter and thought I might share with the interweb, the letter that I wrote to her last month.

Behold!

Dear Lilah,

Four weeks ago today, your daddy and I met you for the first time.

Even though I carried you inside me for nine (which really means ten, and that’s what they don’t tell you about being pregnant) months, I had no idea of the profound impact that you would have on my life (and really, the profound impact that you had already had).  The moment that I first saw you, I knew a love that I had never experienced before and had never anticipated. And for that, my dearest daughter, I am eternally grateful to you.

You had jaundice when you were born because you and I have different blood types and your little body was not used to the antibodies that my body passed to you through the placenta. You had to have light treatments for days when you and I were in the hospital. You had to wear tiny pads over your eyes and only a diaper. You sort of looked like you were in a tiny tanning bed. (Don’t go to tanning beds. They are super gross and bad for you. Also, tanning is really gross. If this doesn’t make sense to you when you read this, let me know, and I will introduce you to a little something called “Jersey Shore” which should clear it all up for you.) We had to stay in the hospital longer than we anticipated because the doctor wanted to keep an eye on you to make sure that your jaundice improved. Luckily, it did and we were all able to go home together, just delayed only a day. You got better and better from there. Even with the slight yellowish tint that you had when we brought you home, you were still the most beautiful baby I have ever seen. Or maybe just the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Period. (Which sounds more accurate.)

We have had a whole month with you now. And it has been quite the adjustment for your daddy and me. You have terrible gas pains (which is something that I had to include in this letter so that I don’t cry through the whole thing) and you don’t really like to sleep unless someone is holding you or you are in your swing. (Your swing, which you generally don’t like to be actually swinging in.) During the week, when your dad goes to work, I sleep on the couch, near you while you are in your swing, or with you curled up on my chest.  I miss sleeping very much, but the moments we spend together during these times are far more precious than I can ever put into words because I know that you will grow up fast and will not always want to cuddle with your mom. (And this makes my heart ache.) On the weekends, your dad stays up with you at night and cuddles with you while I sleep in our bed to recharge for the week ahead. Your dad works really hard during the week, but I think he enjoys this time with you also, even if he doesn’t sleep as much as he is used to.

You are a very strong baby and can already roll from your back to your side without help, which shocks me every time you do it. You definitely have my eyes, and possibly my ears and it looks like the lower half of your face comes from your dad. We are so excited to see what you will look like as you grow bigger. We await the days when you will smile socially (meaning, not just when you have gas) and that we can hear your little giggle. We are so looking forward to all your little milestones and watching you grow.

There hasn’t been a day that has gone by since you were born that I didn’t fall more in love with you. Your grandmas have been lovely and have watched you a few times so that your father and I can sleep and once or twice so that we could have dinner out together and it breaks my heart every time I leave you. Just this last weekend, your Grandma picked you up from our apartment and, as I strapped you into the car seat, I had to hold back tears. And you would only be gone a few hours! (Apparently, this is normal for moms, you will understand someday, but your father thinks I have lost it.)

Your father and I have been trying our best to make sure that you are the happiest, healthiest baby that you can be. (Sometimes this means that I will call the physician on call at your doctor’s office in the middle of the night because you have coughed twice.) I feel so blessed to have been given such a wonderful gift in this new family with you and your daddy and I promise to do everything I can to make sure that you know how much I love you. Every day.

All of my love,

Mom

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On Showering

Well, internet, I survived my baby shower and didn’t even have to punch anyone in the throat for molesting my “baby dome” (as MB is now calling it).

The big party was last Saturday (and pardon my absence here but there have been piles of goodies to sort through, appointments and a lot of eating. You know, because…well…eating is EATING.) I woke up Saturday morning (at 6 am), for the first time in a long time, completely sick. And when I say sick, I mean FIRST TRIMESTER sick. I felt ravenously hungry but totally nauseated and disgusting. I felt bloated and horrible and UGLY. So, as you can imagine, I was not too thrilled to have to try and make myself presentable to see all of my nearest and dearest. But, out of this disgusting funk came one of the best, most hilarious moments of my pregnancy thus far. I don’t know if I have mentioned to you, internet, that I can no longer reach my toes. In preparation, last week, for the shower, I attempted to paint my toenails. RED. (Why? I have no idea. My toenails are always done, but they are also always done in a french manicure because…I am really good without stencils and/or a huge belly.) I’m going to cut this short and just tell you that this was the longest process of my life and I believe I may have broken a rib. So, on Saturday, I asked MB (who had offered several times before) to help me to use a glorious salt scrub on my piggies so that they a) didn’t look so heinous and b) didn’t feel like sandpaper. (I know you guys are really intrigued by the state of my feet, so I will go ahead and tell you that, no, they are not yet swelling.) I am weird about feet and people touching mine (or having to touch anyone else’s) and am extremely ticklish, so I kept maintaining that I could scrub my own feet, until the broken rib happened. So I agreed to let MB help me out. OH. MY. GOD.

I situated my gigantic ass on the side of the tub and braced myself, but I swear I started laughing hysterically before MB even touched me. And I laughed like that and squirmed around for an entire 10 minutes while my wonderful, amazing, fiance attempted to beautify the piggies. I told him later that I wished that I would have had the whole thing on video because it was exactly the kind of thing that I would want my daughter to see when I explain to her what kind of man she should pick. One that will attempt to scrub your feet, even if you are dangerously close to kicking him in the face. That, my friends, is a good man. But I digress…

The shower started at one, and despite all of my pleading with friends and family to properly RSVP, many more people showed up than anticipated which turned my mom into a raving lunatic. I, even though I felt like a total crap bag, was pleased that so many people showed up and were so ridiculously generous. My mom and sister (and even my step-dad, who painstakingly fashioned a beautiful banner welcoming Baby L) did a really cute job decorating and the food, I hear, was divine (thanks to my Uncle/Personal Chef) and mom and sister. I was disappointed that I didn’t even get to eat, partially because I was afraid that I might not be able to keep anything down and partially because the house was so crowded, I wasn’t really even able to get TO the food. (Except the cupcakes, because HELLO. CUPCAKES.) I have to say, it was pretty unlike any baby shower I have ever been to (for me) because a) there were men there, which made me feel better about the universe, and b) the only part of it that felt even remotely shower-y to me was the opening of the gifts. (Which took a really long time, but my sister was clever enough to distract guests with Bingo cards, so not only did people pay attention to the gifts, but they weren’t pissed off about having to sit there and do so for hours on end. I highly recommend…I felt less like I was the center of attention and more like I was working at the nursing home again, where I used to call Bingo for the Alzheimers patients. Not that I am comparing my guests to Alzheimers patients. Well…I mean, most of them are not at all like Alzheimers patients anyway. Either way, they didn’t really care about ME, they just wanted that bottle of wine. Can you blame them?) To be honest, though, the whole thing is kind of a blur. It was a really great day shared with really effing amazing people and I really appreciate all of the love we received (in the form of hugs and gifts and belly rubbing).

Now that I have mentioned the belly rubbing, I guess I should touch on that, since I was fairly certain that it would occur whether I liked it or not.

I have to say, I was actually surprised at the lack of belly rubbing. There were only a handful of people who actual dared to rub the dome. And to be totally honest, the people who did, did not offend me. My old friend TC, who I never get to hang out with and with the help of another of our friends, has now ousted me from the “No Babies for Me” Club, was the most belly-happy of the guests and, even though she probably knows and doesn’t care, (she’s a bad ass like that) that I didn’t want anyone touching it, she did it numerous times. And I didn’t even THINK about hitting her. It actually wasn’t as awkward as I thought it might be. But maybe it just depends on who does it. In fact, my mom has only attempted touching my belly ONE TIME. So, how the hell should I know how I am supposed to feel about it. After the shower was over, however, came the real belly extravaganza when my sister, Fish Head and her husband, Mr. Fish Head cornered me in the garage and while Mr. Fish Head attempted to rouse Baby L by singing Phil Collins songs or quoting Hitler (I think this was an attempt to really piss her off), my sister pressed her entire face to the other side of my belly. This, my friends, was a mite awkward. And really, if they hadn’t been Mr. and Mrs. Fish Head, I am pretty sure they would have been swimming with the fishes. Even that, though, really wasn’t the worst thing to ever happen. It was definitely less annoying than stretch marks. So…there you have it. Maybe I am not anti-belly-touching altogether. Who knew?

This used to be our spare bedroom. And then it exploded with baby items!

Anyway, I do want to thank all of the lovely people who came to celebrate our new addition. Sometimes, and I think this is common in people, I forget how many wonderful people I have in my life and not because I don’t appreciate you all, but because there might be distance, or our every day lives have made it hard to be together. You all just reminded me how truly lucky I am and how truly loved Baby L is already. THANK YOU. Each of you for all the love, and the loot!

 

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Of Things to Come

Baby Shower

Baby Shower (Photo credit: GraceFamily)

Now that I have established the much-needed prenatal care that I so deserve (in your FACE, universe!), I have stopped worrying so much about that part of pregnancy. This, as I stated before, is quite a relief. Now, however, I am starting to panic about other things. Because, you know, what else what I be doing if I weren’t completely freaking out?

MB and I are having a couples shower this weekend, thrown by my mom and sister (who, by the way, have been super awesome through all of this and are super excited to meet Baby L). I wanted a couples shower for a couple of reasons:

1. I hate baby showers. It is no secret. I will go to them and I will “ooh” and “awwww” at baby outfits and the like, but I am typically bored and counting the minutes until I can leave and have a cocktail. Spending all of that time and energy watching a bunch of women get starry-eyed over tiny outfits has never been a favorite activity of mine. I hate baby shower games. I don’t want to guess which melty candy bar is in that diaper, people. That’s gross.  Not only that, but why would we waste perfectly good chocolate for the sake of fake poo? Why?! Somehow, the idea of having men at the shower calms me. It makes me feel that some of that “oohing” and “awwwing” will be counteracted with…like…belching…or something. And that makes me feel normal. At least somewhat.

2. I really can’t imagine doing anything baby-related without including MB. He did help me make this little nugget, after all. Besides that, he actually WANTS to be included. And that, my friends, is totally the best thing ever. Because he restores the sanity in me, even when I think I am a lost cause. I feel that MB will also make it easier to take some of the attention off of me. Yes, I am the one with the belly and I am sure that people will want to touch it (God, help me) but at least he can intercept when I appear to be about to lose it.

3. One of my best friends is a dude. And, even though he is not a baby person, I feel that if he wasn’t there, it wouldn’t be right.

There is a fair amount of stress about the shower just because no one ever throws parties for me and I don’t quite know how to act. Aside from the fact that I am all huge and irritable. I mean, come on. Don’t get me wrong, I am SUPER GRATEFUL that my friends and family care so much about the start of my new family to throw and/or attend this party, it just makes things so much more…REAL!

What’s more than that is what comes after the shower. MB and I will have to bring a bunch of baby stuff into our already cramped apartment and then find places for it. And, as I have mentioned before, we are not really fashioning a nursery for the time-being because we don’t plan on staying in this apartment for much longer than 2-3 months after Baby L is born. During that time, I am planning to make do with the space that we have and I fully intend to have the baby sleeping in our room for that first few months anyway.  What will we do with all of this stuff?!

Then there’s after she is born. Oh. My. God. You guys, since I have stopped worrying about healthcare, I have started to think about all the stuff that comes with actually HAVING A BABY. Like…IN MY HOUSE. The diaper thing? I think I got it.  I am going to use a combo of cloth and disposable (at least at first) to save money and, at the same time, maintain some of my sanity and time. But now I am worried about SIDS and breastfeeding and birth defects and premature labor and lack of sleep and the possibility of postpartum depression. Does it ever end, internet?

My question to you, internet, is:

What books would you mommies recommend to walk me through the first months or year of baby’s life? I have been looking into a few but I am just totally clueless as to which ones are the ones to buy. You guys are the authority. Give it to me straight!

A Reality

Being knocked-up hasn’t been the easiest thing in the world for me to accept (yes, I know that you are all very surprised to hear this). It has been quite the process of coming to terms with things for me. I mean, I never wanted to have kids in the first place. The anxiety of the whole thing was almost too much for me at first. For someone who is really private about her personal life and seriously uncomfortable about letting just anyone in, it was quite the announcement to make that I was pregnant. (i.e.: “Hey! Guess what everyone! MB and I had sex a couple of months ago! And pretty soon, a child is going to come out of my lady parts!” Awkward.) Then, to top it all and add insult to injury, as soon as I felt confortable announcing my pregnancy to the masses and my employer, I was fired (coincidence? I think not.) from my job of almost four years! Naturally, this hasn’t been the best and brightest of experiences thus far. And I struggled so much with the reality of becoming a parent atop the loss of employment, insurance, stability, pride and many, many other things, that it was almost just easier to pretend it wasn’t happening to me. Even when I heard the baby’s heartbeat for the first time, six weeks ago, I was still kind of in denial. I cried my face off, worrying about how on earth I could do this whole motherhood thing. And for the first time, even despite all the vomit and heartburn and fatigue, it was actually starting to become a real thing. A REAL THING, ya’ll.

I can say that, through it all, most of my friends have been super fantastic. (I say most because some of the people who are my “best” friends have been little more than a faint memory since I told them about the pregnancy. And to them I say, “Screw you, bitches.”) They have kept me from slitting my wrists on more than one occasion and forced me to look at the positive aspects of having a baby.

1. I can eat McDoubles often and without excessive guilt. (There is guilt, but it is outweighed by the pure joy that the satisfaction of a McDouble provides to “the baby”. Because, all of us preggos know that it isn’t actually US craving the disgusting food, it is “the baby”.)

2. I can take naps. And not only do I not feel guilty about naps, but I also feel justified in taking them. After all, there is a foreign parasite in my pelvis. It is sucking the life out of me.

3. I am going to have an actual baby. Like, one that I made. I MADE IT. Granted, I did not do this alone, but whoa. I have some effing talent, for REALS.

Over the Christmas holiday, MB and I were able, through a gift from his sister, to have our first sonogram. For the first time, we were able to see this weirdo thing we created, as it rolled around in my belly (which, by the way, is totally the weirdest feeling in the entire universe).  I have to say, while it was one of the most bizarre experiences of my life, it was also one of the most miraculous. Who knew that I would actually feel love for the squishy, little bean inside of me? Who knew that I would be so happy to see it wriggle around. I knew something was in there and I was reminded nightly when I lay down in my bed and felt the “quickening”, but it still wasn’t…real.

 

Well, internet…it is real. And it’s a GIRL! I’m gonna be a momma!

HOLY CRAP.

Moving Along…A Rant About Becoming a Parent

I am a little over 18 weeks pregnant now and, in just a few short months, My Beloved and I will be welcoming our child into the world. This ilicits a lot of responses from me. It varies from minute to minute from panic, to pure joy and pride, to total depression and despair for the state of humanity.

I think the panic part of this is normal and obvious. You know, because, having always acted LIKE a kid, actually HAVING one to take care of and having to be RESPONSIBLE for, is…well…it is a huge deal. And what if we do it wrong? Like, what if having a kid is not at all like having a cat? I am so good at having a cat, you guys. I have been doing it for 12 years. And I am stellar. I mean, aside from the fact that my cat is giant and overweight and still has not figured out that, not only is the litterbox for poop, it is for PEE. He prefers rugs.  Which is better than the actual carpet, but is still not ideal.  What if my kid won’t ever pee in a toilet? What if he/she prefers closets? Or the screened-in porch? Or, like, the kitchen sink? And what if, like in training (or not training, evidently) my cat, I am unable to persuade said child to pee inside the toilet?  What if I am a total failure?! Peeing in appropriate places is supremely important for most people in most situations.

(Sidenote:  Now that I am talking about this I am thinking about things I have not yet tried to show my cat how to pee INSIDE the litterbox and I am wondering why I have never tried to “lead by example” and realizing that, now that I am peeing 7 million times a day and am home with him most of the time, I may actually be able to train him correctly. Hmmm…Ponderous, no?

Side Sidenote: I want to stress here that I did say that peeing in appropriate places is supremely important for MOST people in MOST situations. Unless, MB and I decide to bring the baby up in some colony of naked rednecks or in some tribe somewhere in a desert, peeing in appropriate places will most likely be a really valuable skill. But I do understand that tribal people, naked, toothless rednecks and drunk frat boys do not live by our rules.)

I guess the joy and pride part is really very common too. I mean, who doesn’t take pride in making something special? When I make a perfectly round pancake, I sometimes feel the need to take pictures of it and post it on seven social networking sites so, you can imagine how proud I am feeling right now that a human being is currently hanging out in my womb just waiting to bust out and show everyone what REAL awesome looks like. I am sure this feeling of pride will last significantly longer than my perfectly round, Facebook pancake. I mean, I get to be proud of many things about this kid. When he/she rolls over for the first time. Or takes his/her first steps. Or starts kindergarten. Or learns the rules of appropriate peeing. Or granduates from high school. Take that, pancake!

But then the despair sets in. I wonder often, while breaking my one-woman eating contest and watching Jerry Springer (the joys of unemployment), how I can sleep at night knowing that I am bringing a child into a world where the topic of television shows is often “I Slept with My Sister’s Brother’s Cousin, Who Also May or May Not be My Real Father…Or Possibly Great-Aunt. Oh, yeah. And I’m Also A Stripper.” And where people say “irregardless” like it is a totally acceptable word. Like it isn’t at all redundant. How can I rest knowing that I will have to shelter my child from these evils? HOW?!

I am fully aware that I am not the only woman having the same dilemma and I am sure that once I hold the wee one, I will forget about all of this crazy and just be happy that I have created something so beautiful.

I am sure the kid will be fine. Irregardless.

 

Aftermath

The Facebook announcement wasn’t as traumatic as I had expected. I did get a lot of support from my friends and family and it was welcomed and appreciated and I feel so much lighter. SO MUCH LIGHTER. Only one person from work, evidently, saw the post and responded and has mentioned it to me today. I am quite sure that there are others who know but have not said anything yet, which is annoying but sort of a relief. I just want to know that everyone knows and has gotten all the talk out of their systems so we can all move on. Many of my good friends (in fact, almost all of them) have kids already, so they have already proven to be a good resource for me. But I will tell you, I sort of feel, with the influx of all the advice, that my head might explode at any moment. How am I supposed to remember the names of all the contraptions that are a waste of money, or the ones that are baby must-haves? I could write these things down, I suppose, but I am so overwhelmed with the whole thing that I can’t manage to think fast enough to do that. And then, before I know it, I have forgotten and then find myself in a panic because I don’t know the name of that thing that does stuff that makes the kid sleep for HOURS and I NEED THAT THING. What IS it?!

 

Aside from my normal state of utter panic, I have been doing pretty well. I have managed to answer phone calls that I know will result in conversations about babies, which, two weeks ago, never would have happened. As it turns out, a good friend of mine is also pregnant right now and has not yet made the announcement, but is due two weeks after my due date. This is awesome for several reasons:

1. She will significantly reduce the amount of freaking out I have to do with regard to what to buy for this kid because she has a little one already and knows what is a necessity and what is a waste of too much money.

2. She will probably understand if I am a complete psychopath for the next few months and will probably still come with me to do a baby registry and stuff so I don’t drive my car off a bridge from the stress of it all.

3. I was really wishing that I had a pregnant friend who could hang out with me and NOT drink wine. And she loves wine as much as I do, so we can be bitter about it together. (I don’t think that she is as bitter as I am because she likes babies more than wine and I am still undecided and I believe that I will be until I hold this little alien and decide which is more rewarding: Pinot Grigio or “the baby smell”? Jury is still out.)

4. I desperately want someone to waddle with when the time comes. Waddling alone just sounds depressing.

 

I had been feeling little flutters from time to time, but nothing to write home about. In fact, I told My Beloved yesterday (and most days) that this baby needs to DO SOMETHING soon because I just feel fat. I feel hideous and obese and generally GROSS. I feel like all these changes are happening to my body, but so far, no real, hard evidence that it is for any good reason. And I am telling you, that is effing annoying. It has been really hard for me to accept all this extra discomfort (and belly mass) without being somehow rewarded.  But last night, or early this morning rather, I woke up for my 7th trip to the bathroom and returned to bed, half-asleep. I assumed my position, on my stomach, and started to actually feel something. And, this time, it wasn’t just that tiny little flit of something moving about, it was an honest-to-goodness, baby doing backflips kind of feeling and it went on for a good five minutes straight.

 

I was both excited and terrified about this. At first, I wasn’t sure that I had even felt it at all, or if I had been dreaming the whole thing.

But in the end, I guess the baby heard my request and decided to DO SOMETHING. And I am quite certain that this is an idication that he/she is both obedient and a genius. Oh, and possibly a gymnast.

 

Now I will await the first kicks, which I am sure will totally freak me out. I might need therapy. Or to call my fellow preggo friend (THANK HEAVENS!!!)

 

P.S. Speaking of kicks and whatnot, for future reading on the subject, go here!