Saturday, March 21, 2015

Dear Baby #5

Dear Baby #5,

I can vividly remember writing this letter to your next-oldest sibling, who is now a toddler. I was in dire straits in the days I was expecting him--off my antidepressants, ill with hyperparathyroidism, guilt-laden, catastrophically stressed, supplicating to the pregnancy gods that things would work out. All is much better now (knock on wood). Nevertheless, there are some things I would like to ask of you.

1. Could you please stop making me vomit so much. I know that sentence is supposed to have a question mark, but it is a firmer request than that. We are coming up on 12 weeks. The broken blood vessels in my eyes tell me that this much heaving (in addition to this much Zofran) can't be good for either of us.

2. Could you please try to avoid making your grand entrance to the world on Will's birthday (September 19th)? Will shares so much with everyone; I don't think he will want to share his day. Any other day is preferable, even the anniversary day of the 9/11 tragedy. I assume you will stay put through James' (8/5) and Zach's (8/22) since you aren't technically due 'till 10/8.

3. Could you please, please allow me to have some energy this weekend, when your dad will be out of town, sailing to Catalina with his buddies (cue ominous Gilligan's Island theme music: "a three-hour tour")? It'll be just me plus your four sibs, until Meryl and Aunt Kay and Uncle Chuck and get here to visit and help. Have mercy, little plum-sized fetus.

4. It would be awesome if I didn't pee my pants when I cough, sneeze, or puke (see #1). I know this is outside of your control, but it can't hurt to ask.

5. Please don't develop complications or give me delivery surprises of the unpleasant kind. I'll try to keep my liver and other organs happy as best I may.

Thanks. I love you.

Mom

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

Interlude

I feel better today, all of a sudden.

The puking has momentarily ceased. "Puh-raise God for vittory!" exclaimed Granma Joad.

I think I may actually put on non-bathrobe clothing, emerge from the house for the first time in weeks, and do the thing that we Californians love best: purchase something.

There's a fairly long list of "crucial" items to buy (with apologies to the Joads)--

For Will: t-shirts "that aren't crappy"; new football cleats
For Zach: toddler motorcycle, and toddler potty (He's been telling me when he's pooped in his diaper; I'm SO not ready for this, but here goes.)
For James: non-fiction book "that isn't crappy"; new football cleats
For Elise: I can't even remember but I know she needs something.

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Poem of the Day

Or, In Defense of Naming a Baby Before She is Born

My Baby Has No Name Yet
by Kim Nam-Jo (1927-)

My baby has no name yet;
like a new-born chick or puppy,
my baby is not named yet.

What numberless texts I examined
at dawn and night and evening over again!
But not one character did I find
which is as lovely as the child.

Starry field of the sky,
or heap of pearls in the depth.
Where can the name be found, how can I?

My baby has no name yet;
like an unnamed bluebird or white flowers
from the farthest land for the first,
I have no name for this baby of ours.

Friday, March 6, 2015

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Zach's First Sentence, & More

"Mama sick!" [makes barfing noises] -Zach

"Mom, I've been right about things before. And I think you might be having a baby." -Elise, ever-observant

"Mom, if you decide to have another baby, and I'm not saying you are, I'll help change diapers!" -James, making me cry the other day

"Mom, I'm sorry you don't feel good. I love you." -Will

Wednesday, February 18, 2015

My Day

Today has sucked a little bit.

First, I felt like sh*t. Had to cancel the kids' eye doctor appointments because I was too nauseous to function.

Second, I threw up repeatedly in my car (I made it into the trash can, though). This was while Zach and I were in the line at the Taco Bell drive-thru, because, you know, sometimes you NEED nachos and nothing else will suffice. Sometimes, you just NEED NACHOS or your body will punish you severely (mine did because I was about three minutes too late in getting said-nachos). Anyway, since the trash can is between the front seats, I twisted and writhed violently while puking and may have seriously pulled a muscle between my shoulder blades.

And you know how, sometimes when you puke, you puke so hard that tears come out? And pee? Yeah. So that was happening right as it was my turn to order. I rolled down the window; the dude working there asked me how my day was going.

"Good!" I said.

I was still puking when I pulled up to the window, and he handed me my food between pukes.

Then, I felt bad for Zach because he kept saying, "Side!" and wanted to go outside and play. So we went to the park, despite my intense back pain. He ended up having a massive toddler tantrum and intentionally banged his forehead on the cement while we were waiting for the big kids to be dismissed from school. There was screaming and rolling and kicking. He was p!ssed because I'd had to make him leave the park to go pick up the kids. He has a huge gash on his forehead now. A few minutes later, my friend asked me if that was dried blood in Zach's hair; it was actually dried chocolate pudding, which he'd refused to let me comb out. Way to pull it all together to make me look like a good mommy, Son.

Now, Zach is eating more pudding because that's one of the only foods he will currently eat beside fruit snacks and popcorn. The big boys are watching TMNT, and Elise is out playing, and all is generally peaceful. But Zach is smearing pudding on his forearms.

At least Joe is coming home soon to make it all better. Sucks to be him, but I'm going back to bed ASAP.

Friday, February 13, 2015

More Celebrity Babies: Renamed

I just heard that the Lively-Reynolds baby isn't named Violet, after all. She's not even named a girl's name, d@mmit.

She's named James.

And I don't have a lot of nice things to say about that, having a son named James and believing fervently that neither James nor Maxwell nor Thomas nor Wyatt Earp nor anything else with a strong tradition as a male name is suddenly appropriate for a female child just because a celebrity thought it would be cute.

So! Let us commence with the renaming!

James Violet Viola! Or Violin. Or pretty much anything other than James.

(Rule for naming daughters: "traditional feminine name" > "random noun name" > "name with a strong male connotation")

--

In other news, Elise is eight years old!!!!!