So, my figlet is now a tennis ball, or some equally odd size-comparison. Maybe a jumbo shrimp, or a longanista, or.... half eaten Snickers bar? Whatever (she) resembles, 3 inches is about the length now, and I would compare her to an unecxited male organ, but that just seems wrong on too many levels.
I was sitting in a booooring meeting today, not the Union one, because they at least serve pizza there (yay!) but a nit-pick one, where the old-timers show just how much they don't know about the programs they are working on. And I'm talking basic, basic info here.
So anyway, I'm bored, sipping my hippy water while the Help Desk guy explains things I'm flabbergasted that people will actually admit to not knowing. Stuff I learned my first week in training. Stuff you see everyday, deal with every day, and should be able to explain in your sleep.
Maybe because I was so uninterested, I started to notice a little gurgle-bubble rumbling in my tummy. Not up high like indigestion, and not down low like I'm going to have to take a walk down the hall where nobody is sitting, but right in the bladder-ish area where bubbles don't form. (Okay, where normal bladders are, mine is shoved deep down where no bladder has dared to go before....)
And I realized, My figlet was dancing! 3 inches of uncontrollable reflexes doing the jig at 13 weeks, this is what I've been waiting for. Real live proof that I'm knocked up, and God, I miss the feeling so much! The sickness is mostly at bay (for the last few days, anyway) and my pouch is growing, and best of all, the kid is kicking!
That's all. No touching unitl at least 24 weeks, okay?
;)
May 27, 2008
May 22, 2008
Bad News, and Something Good Too
Well, the Mazda crapped out.
I knew it was bound to happen eventually, I've been incredibly lucky with mt repair record for the last 9 years, pretty much oil changes and tune-ups, tires, but nothing out of the ordinary so far. Late last week, the "check engine" light came on, and I was planning to drop it off soon at the repair shop to check it out, but, it didn't make it that long. I think she was angry that I was eyeballing other cars.
Wednesday morning P called me to say it kept stalling out and he got a ride to work from the neighbor. This morning we tried to drop it off, him driving and me following in the Camry, but it only made it about 1/4 mile, and we had to call a tow truck.
So, we'll see. I don't even know when they will have a chance to look at it, or how much more this little clunker is going to cost me.
P had to drop me off at work this morning, 2 hours before he has to be at work. He woke up early, got ready in 15 minutes, met the tow-truck guy, then came back to my job so I could drop him off at work and take the car to see Boogie at lunch.
Then, he validated my parking and bought me breakfast. What a doll.
I knew it was bound to happen eventually, I've been incredibly lucky with mt repair record for the last 9 years, pretty much oil changes and tune-ups, tires, but nothing out of the ordinary so far. Late last week, the "check engine" light came on, and I was planning to drop it off soon at the repair shop to check it out, but, it didn't make it that long. I think she was angry that I was eyeballing other cars.
Wednesday morning P called me to say it kept stalling out and he got a ride to work from the neighbor. This morning we tried to drop it off, him driving and me following in the Camry, but it only made it about 1/4 mile, and we had to call a tow truck.
So, we'll see. I don't even know when they will have a chance to look at it, or how much more this little clunker is going to cost me.
P had to drop me off at work this morning, 2 hours before he has to be at work. He woke up early, got ready in 15 minutes, met the tow-truck guy, then came back to my job so I could drop him off at work and take the car to see Boogie at lunch.
Then, he validated my parking and bought me breakfast. What a doll.
May 21, 2008
Month Twenty-Three
I was awoken this morning at 5am by the sound of a fussing toddler, not crying, but sort of moaning and sounding very uncomfortable. I tried to go in to get you back to sleep, but after 10 minutes of you peeking up at me through eyes barely closed, and knowing that I would have to be up soon after (and still feeling exhausted and nauseous from the night before) I brought you into bed with Papa and I, and your fuzzy blanket and we slept. I missed so much sleeping with you in the big bed, your soft snores and baby smell, the lavender from your lotion mingling with an over-ripe diaper. Your little hand curled up into a fist beneath my chin and your tiny knobby knees planted firmly in my stomach. The back of your neck was resting on my arm, and even when you started to sweat a bit, you snuggled deeper into the crook of my elbow when I tried to move away.
When you were little, we used to snuggle up for our afternoon naps. By then I was tired too, because your morning and evening naps I would cook, and clean the house while I was home with you, but when I went back to work you stopped sleeping with me except on the weekends, and soon that ended too because you fell madly (and exclusively) in love with sleeping in your crib. But now I know you can sleep with me, and I will take full advantage until your little brother or sister arrives.
Speaking of the little figlet, you have fallen into the most adorable habit this month of kissing each ultrasound picture on the fridge when we go downstairs to get your oatmeal in the morning, then spreading all your fingers wide apart and saying “Two babies!” Or when I’m laying down on the couch reading you a book you’ll pull my shirt up and say “Hi Baby!” You even sing songs to by belly, and rub the forming bulge, stopping every once in a while to give it a kiss. I have no doubt in my mind you will be a fantastic Big Sister. You’ve adopted a stuffed baby doll my aunt sent you who had a double chin and look snot quite right, but you refuse to sleep without her, your “Osie” and your blanket…. For every nap and at night too.
The blanket is getting a bit out of hand though. We had a heat wave this past weekend, it was 80 degrees at 6 am on Friday morning and we went to the Oakland Zoo. Maybe not one of my best ideas, the animals were all so hot they just slept in the shade and we didn’t get to see any lions or bears, and when we got home, dripping with sweat and exhausted at 1pm, you insisted on curling up with your blankie even though an hour later you woke up moaning, your hair drenched in sweat and a huge puddle surrounding your head like a liquid halo. And even then, you asked for your blankie again and went back to sleep. My wish for you is that you find a comfort object that can transition through the seasons, maybe a nice necklace or something that won’t interfere with your sleep, and that you can take out of the house with you when you need it.
I feel like I’m neglecting you lately, I am just so tired and sick it’s hard to get down on the floor to play with you. But then there are those times when you’re sitting with me and we’re just laughing and playing and I look at you and can’t believe that I ever had a part in making such a special little girl. I’ve been told that you love all your children equally, in different ways, but no more or less between them. But sometimes when I look at your smiling face I can’t imagine loving anything in the world more that you. I guess we’ll see, huh?
Happy (day late) 23rd month birthday, my Angel.
I love you,
Mama.
When you were little, we used to snuggle up for our afternoon naps. By then I was tired too, because your morning and evening naps I would cook, and clean the house while I was home with you, but when I went back to work you stopped sleeping with me except on the weekends, and soon that ended too because you fell madly (and exclusively) in love with sleeping in your crib. But now I know you can sleep with me, and I will take full advantage until your little brother or sister arrives.
Speaking of the little figlet, you have fallen into the most adorable habit this month of kissing each ultrasound picture on the fridge when we go downstairs to get your oatmeal in the morning, then spreading all your fingers wide apart and saying “Two babies!” Or when I’m laying down on the couch reading you a book you’ll pull my shirt up and say “Hi Baby!” You even sing songs to by belly, and rub the forming bulge, stopping every once in a while to give it a kiss. I have no doubt in my mind you will be a fantastic Big Sister. You’ve adopted a stuffed baby doll my aunt sent you who had a double chin and look snot quite right, but you refuse to sleep without her, your “Osie” and your blanket…. For every nap and at night too.
The blanket is getting a bit out of hand though. We had a heat wave this past weekend, it was 80 degrees at 6 am on Friday morning and we went to the Oakland Zoo. Maybe not one of my best ideas, the animals were all so hot they just slept in the shade and we didn’t get to see any lions or bears, and when we got home, dripping with sweat and exhausted at 1pm, you insisted on curling up with your blankie even though an hour later you woke up moaning, your hair drenched in sweat and a huge puddle surrounding your head like a liquid halo. And even then, you asked for your blankie again and went back to sleep. My wish for you is that you find a comfort object that can transition through the seasons, maybe a nice necklace or something that won’t interfere with your sleep, and that you can take out of the house with you when you need it.
I feel like I’m neglecting you lately, I am just so tired and sick it’s hard to get down on the floor to play with you. But then there are those times when you’re sitting with me and we’re just laughing and playing and I look at you and can’t believe that I ever had a part in making such a special little girl. I’ve been told that you love all your children equally, in different ways, but no more or less between them. But sometimes when I look at your smiling face I can’t imagine loving anything in the world more that you. I guess we’ll see, huh?
Happy (day late) 23rd month birthday, my Angel.
I love you,
Mama.
May 6, 2008
We're All Parents, Right?
Teresa and I took Taryn to the Sausalito Faire on Saturday to get some fresh air and let her run around a bit. There was a stage set up on one side where this odd-ball was playing music and having all the kids act out the song and sing and dance and such.
The stage was shaped sort of like a U, it was a big square with two smalled rectangles sticking out on each side where the speakers were set up. And most of the parents had parted themselves in the lawn in front of the stage with a hot dog and a beer.
There were a few parents in the little space between the two rectangles, and I was standing on the outside edge of one of the rectangles with the speakes between me and Boogie shaking her thing up on the stage. At one point, a little boy maybe 4 years old fell over backwards off the stage and hit his head on the ground. There were two parents within arms reach of the kids who was lying on the ground sobbing for his mom, and they both just sat there looking at each other asking, "Is he yours?"
I stood there for maybe 5 seconds, scanning the crowd to see if his parents would go to get him, or if one of the parents right next to him would comfort him. But when I realized that nobody was making a move, I went all the way around the stage and picked him up, asking him where his mom was sitting.
The two parents were asking me, "Is he yours?" and all I could do was snap, "No, but he's still a child." I was so furious that they would just sit there a let a hurt little kid cry, not lifting a finger to help or comfort him, or even to find his parents. When he saw his mom and ran to her, I snatched Boogie off the stage and stormed away.
Now, I don't want to make a racial generalization here, but I really feel that had we been in a group of minorities, someone closer to the kid would have picked him up and helped him find his mom. It's sad to me that parents have become so disconnected from others that they can sit and watch a child cry, and have no reaction to it. Or that people have become so scared of lawsuits that they won't interfere to help someone who is hurt.
So that was my pissy moment for the weekend. I still can't fathom sitting and doing nothing, or being a parent so involved in my own life that I don't see my own kid get hurt. And now I totally don't trust leaving my kid anywhere without my supervision, because who knows if someone will find me if she gets hurt?
The stage was shaped sort of like a U, it was a big square with two smalled rectangles sticking out on each side where the speakers were set up. And most of the parents had parted themselves in the lawn in front of the stage with a hot dog and a beer.
There were a few parents in the little space between the two rectangles, and I was standing on the outside edge of one of the rectangles with the speakes between me and Boogie shaking her thing up on the stage. At one point, a little boy maybe 4 years old fell over backwards off the stage and hit his head on the ground. There were two parents within arms reach of the kids who was lying on the ground sobbing for his mom, and they both just sat there looking at each other asking, "Is he yours?"
I stood there for maybe 5 seconds, scanning the crowd to see if his parents would go to get him, or if one of the parents right next to him would comfort him. But when I realized that nobody was making a move, I went all the way around the stage and picked him up, asking him where his mom was sitting.
The two parents were asking me, "Is he yours?" and all I could do was snap, "No, but he's still a child." I was so furious that they would just sit there a let a hurt little kid cry, not lifting a finger to help or comfort him, or even to find his parents. When he saw his mom and ran to her, I snatched Boogie off the stage and stormed away.
Now, I don't want to make a racial generalization here, but I really feel that had we been in a group of minorities, someone closer to the kid would have picked him up and helped him find his mom. It's sad to me that parents have become so disconnected from others that they can sit and watch a child cry, and have no reaction to it. Or that people have become so scared of lawsuits that they won't interfere to help someone who is hurt.
So that was my pissy moment for the weekend. I still can't fathom sitting and doing nothing, or being a parent so involved in my own life that I don't see my own kid get hurt. And now I totally don't trust leaving my kid anywhere without my supervision, because who knows if someone will find me if she gets hurt?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
