premonition
our shower head/pipe connection thingy exploded this morning.
coincidence?
maybe.
harbinger of something else soon to explode?
you tell me.
decidedly
some good news. we may have chosen a name for this little packet of wonder that currently has her foot underneath my ribs. don’t get too excited. i’m not going to actually tell you the name. [no philosophical reason for the secrecy, really. i just don’t want to know what you think of the name until it’s too late for me to change my mind again. i have a very fragile mind.]
so i did what any slightly obsessive, freakishly paranoid parent would do and sat down with the latest pottery barn kids catalog to make sure that my near choice isn’t about to be catapulted into coolness. it’s not that i have anything against coolness–it’s just not something that i’ve ever done well. and, really, when one is sitting the razor thin line between 29 and 30 it just doesn’t seem like the moment to change your coolness status. i’m not sure how my un-coolness will transfer to my progeny at this point, but that’s a worry i can’t worry about right now. [come on, i was the president of FLOA–future librarians of america–in high school.]
in case you’re curious, here are the latest pottery barn girls names in alphabetical order. [my apologies to those of you with small men, maybe that will be the next installment.]
Filed under motherhood | Comments (4)abby, abigail, addison, allie, alyssa, amber, amy, annie, audrey, bailey, bella, betsy, brittany, brooke, callie, cameron, cara, carolina, caroline, chloe, ella, erin, haley, harper, isabelle, izzy, jaime, janet, janie, katie, lizzie, lucy, madeline, madison, mckenna, olivia, payton, peyton, sabrina, shelby, sophie
sheepish
i haven’t finished a tale of two cities. yet. i’m a few hundred pages in. really. i am. for some reason (is it the 39 week belly?) i’m having a really hard time keeping track of the characters. and there’s something about the french revolution that always makes me feel uncomfortable. (or maybe the guillotine makes everyone feel uncomfortable…?) the more i read about the reign of terror, the more i feel like i’m back in my high school ap european history class praying that the teacher won’t call on me. something about the whole of european history never made sense to me. go figure. anyway. i’m going to finish. you should finish too. it will make you smarter.
and just for kicks, here’s a conversation i overheard between henry and his pacifier as i was visiting the little girl’s room in the wee hours of the morning, “oh. hi binkie. hi. you’re so silly. so silly.”
Filed under book trail, motherhood | Comments (4)proof
for those of you still waffling about the whole deity thing, i submit the following evidence of a just and good god.
- since the purchase of a crib for henry (yes, my child spend the first few years of his life sleeping in things like chairs), he has been reluctant to get out of bed in the mornings. (i assume this is because he’s so stinking comfortable.) that means that his mother (me) can sleep in until 8:00 or 8:30. miracle? i think so.
- yesterday henry came up and tugged on my arm and said something unintelligible. so i, in jest of course, because i’m always jesting, said, “do you need to go sit on the potty?” (as a side note, i’ve wanted to avoid potty training forever, or at least until post-move.) but henry said, “yes.” so i had his father plop him on the potty and we watched, amazed, as henry did a little number two business, smiled proudly, and flushed. miracle? i think so.
well-laid plans
i’m up a little late for a pregnant lady. i’ve been agonizing over a birth plan. well, not so much a “plan” as a “please don’t do these certain things to me” list. i never wrote one with henry. i thought to myself “i really trust these people, they won’t do anything to hurt me.” interesting thought. though i’m sure my midwife and the OB resident weren’t out to make the next four months of my life rather hellish, that’s how it turned out.
you might wonder what happened. and i might wonder if it’s the sort of thing you can write about on a blog. and i might do it anyway. let’s just say that i had a fourth degree tear, followed by a fourth degree repair without any sort of anesthesia. YOWCH. i still have nightmares that include a masked OB resident at the foot of my bed. and, of course, it didn’t heal properly and involved several instances of silver nitrate and i think i’ll spare you those details.
so, tell me. any of you have birth “plans” that made any sort of difference? or am i riding a tidal wave of managed care that won’t listen to me, no matter how politely i let them know that i really don’t like the feeling of a needle working its way through my skin?
Filed under motherhood | Comments (3)