Scribbling Dame

Preposterous Pondering.

Something about Plurals… April 23, 2012

Filed under: Mommy Issues — Scribbling Dame @ 7:35 pm
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It has recently occurred to me that my husband and I have two kids. As in plural. As in there are as many children in our family as their are of us. Huh. There are few times in a life when one experiences the power of becoming plural: marriage/partnership, puppy, first pregnancy, first baby, subsequent babies. It’s an interesting moment when you realize “you” is becoming “we,” and “we” is becoming different.

Even though the whole pregnancy thing is planned and a long time coming (sometimes it can feel like forever), we all have those moments when the weight of our life sinks in–both in beautiful ways that make us feel grateful and amazed and on other days, in ways where we  think it’s very possible we have doomed ourselves to a never-ending cycle of feeding, cleaning bodies, and cleaning houses/clothes. Both are true.

Some differences I am noticing with this iteration of “we” now that we have a 4 and a new-year-old:

For the forseeable future, and thanks to OR car seat laws, probably the next 7 years, we will always have to take separate cars to locations. Getting a table at a restaraunt for our family plus anyone is now looking more like a banquet affair–no “squeezing in” six people. And, unlike our first, where my husband and I were the trailblazers in baby-having, we are surrounded by more supportive friends and their families who are helping us bask in the joy of our newbie and the new family dynamic, which really does make things sweeter.

Another benefit, which I’d heard of, is just being more relaxed. I don’t immediately jump off the couch or out of bed at every little whimper.  In fact, here are two totally terrifying body things that, thanks to second baby, I am not remotely worried about. 1)Face paralysis. Normally not being able to control one half of your face all-of-a sudden might be cause for alarm–usually this brings “stroke” to mind. I now know this is a just a whimsical little condition called Bells Palsy, which is totally harmless and temporary, although does a number on one’s vanity. It is also completely random and not necessarily pregnancy related. Sigh. 2)A marble sized hard lump under the breast of your newborn. First thought: cancer. Reality: hormones from breastmilk can cause these (in girls and boys). Again, temporary and harmless. It is weird how many body things having a baby can make you normalize. Although, I would like my face back soon, please and thank you.

Alas, this post is random, reflecting the day-to-dayness of our lives with the Ellie addition. Some days I literally have no thoughts to share because I am too tired or too wrapped up in the cycle of people maintenance. Other days I feel like we are hitting the stride of the new normal. Either way, we are cozy and content and grateful.

Ellie Marie

 

Sexy is relative. And obviously scientific. March 2, 2012

Be careful work peeps–this may be TMI…

I am so fucking pregnant. This is not just a statement of fact–it is the official final stage of pregnancy. I am sure you have heard of it.

The others are:

1) Yay! I’m pregnant. Nauseous, but grateful.

2) How cute! I am pregnant. Showing a “bump” and having some of the cute-sie symptoms like pickle cravings and burps. So sweet! and then there is where I am…

3)So fucking pregnant–as in I am so fucking pregnant I feel like a leg or arm could be dangling out of my nether-regions and I may not even realize it. This is the phase where everyone loves to say “wow. you’re ready to ‘pop.’ ” This is also nature’s way of helping a woman not care so much about what happens to her during labor/delivery because at least it will all be over with.

I am the stage of pregnancy where I am in a pharmacy next to senior citizens and we are evaluating/purchasing the same products. Attempting to keep myself groomed below the belt, because I can see nothing below my navel, results in something that looks like small wild animals attacked me.

Mee-ow.

 

And this brings me to a strange miracle that I have observed in both of my pregnancies as well as those of my friends. My husband doesn’t seem to care. In fact, he, and many of my man friends have told me they find their partners somehow more attractive and dare I say fuckable at exactly the same moment women are feeling like they could not be larger, more awkward, or less attractive ( a la Shrek). In my eyes, this is like someone going from a luxury sports car to a used mini-van and being far more excited about the latter. God bless ’em. (*sorry to be exclusionary to my same-sex friends–not sure if the experience is the same for y’all. So far my only exposure/conversations have been with hetero-couples…)

To me, this must be hormonal and scientific. I liken this phenomena to another of my husband’s habits, which is the need to “plant his seed” when I am deathly ill. It’s like his last shot at continuing his genus. In other words, there must be some evolutionary reason that men dig pregnant chicks (and there are totally porno sites of pregnant chicks out there–Google if you don’t believe me.) It’s not as if I can get more pregnant. For the life of me, I can’t think of what that reason is.

On this rare occasion, I don’t feel the need to hotly pursue the answer. I will just be happy knowing that the person who counts most still thinks I am hump-worthy, despite how I may feel or think I look in the so fucking pregnant stage of pregnancy. Yay pheromones and hormones and other moans.

 

Get Your Freak On November 20, 2011

Filed under: Mommy Issues — Scribbling Dame @ 9:49 pm
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I knew today was going to be stressful when last night I woke up because one of my nipples was itchy. Yes, the mysteries of pregnancy keep on giving. Definitely the sign of something off.

Every pregnancy has its freak out moments, and by this I mean not things that should freak a person out like health issues or the  vast weight of being responsible for another human life. I am talking about fearing, on apocalyptic levels, completely ridiculous shit. With Sofia, I was convinced, despite an entire closet and dresser full of clothing, that she would inevitably be forced to be naked. I don’t know if I thought she was going to spit up, or I’d never be able to do laundry (I wish!)–the cause is of no relevance. I impulsively kept buying clothing. She never went forcibly naked, in case you were concerned.

So today I had to sooth myself and talk myself down from a ledge of panic over, not unfortunate nakedness, but money. Now, this is not a totally irrational fear, especially given the temperature of the economic environment, but my privileged white ass was stressed because I thought I probably bought too much for Sofia for Christmas and her birthday, and somewhere I convinced myself that we’d be bankrupt next month. I started looking around my house at items that haven’t been used or only used once and  caught myself thinking of how I bought that stupid bath salt set and now we’re all going to starve.

Yay hormones!

I should also point out that I started off the morning in tears while watching a CBS news story of all the people in America who are worried about where their next meal will come from, and I cried because I am so grateful with everything I am blessed to have, especially considering my (at times) very poor upbringing. I am no where near poor, or even broke. Real poor people have no time or energy to contemplate if they are poor or not.

And what are my coping mechanisms for stress? Beer or vodka, which is out. Shopping, which is why I am stressed in the first place. Sex, but my back is killing me and sounds like too much work. So I took a bath, had a cup of tea, and reminded myself to be normal. It mostly worked.

These are my Thanksgiving Plans!

 

Scaredy-Mom February 21, 2010

Filed under: Mommy Issues,SuperWoman Syndrome — Scribbling Dame @ 10:33 pm
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I pride myself on being a pretty fierce broad. I have done and said things that other people in my shoes would probably not have the balls to do or say. In fact, part of my charm is that I will still have more balls than people around me in most cases, when it comes to saying or doing things that might be hard to do or say.

However, and it feels like since motherhood my life has become full of howevers, I find myself scared now more than usual. I am less willing to take risks and there is an instinctual caution that I experience. At the most basic level I just cannot watch the news, movies or shows where children are kidnapped, maimed or abused. I have an intense physiological reaction and I can so worked up that I start feeling nauseated. The only explanation I could come up with was instinct–like a mother animal who knows her kids (and husband 🙂 ) would starve without her, I can’t allow myself to get into any scenario where death is a possibility, and the unknown is definitely risky.

I am starting to think that almost any questions that come up after becoming a mother can be answered with two things: hormones and instinct. For men it’s death and taxes.

I also noticed the fear phenomenon when I went on a business trip to Atlanta a few months ago. I was by myself and had never been there, and I was unwilling to take a train at night to my hotel. I also wouldn’t go out to eat alone at night. I suddenly became dainty and fragile and fearful, which I had never been before Sofia. I would have torn up the town in my younger sans-child days.

Now I find myself scared again at making some pretty big life decisions about my house and my career and what directions my husband and I should pursue, and I am terrified of risk. I am not one to dwell in the ambiguous in general–I like my routines and everything to have its place, but I recognize that we need to change direction or we are going to live a waking death, numb to happiness, and slaves to routine.

I think that as much as I am responsible for Sofia’s survival, she is in fact more influential on mine: I suddenly analyze the weight of all my decisions and actions–or lack thereof, and I constantly ask myself, “Is this what I want to teach Sofia? Is my decision or action showing her the best way to live life?”  Being able to answer yes to both of those questions is the only thing that gives me the gusto to do what I need to do, even when I think I might crap myself.

 

 
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