The End

You know any shred of cool you once had is completely obliterated by parenthood when you get a local list of arts and entertainment coming to your town and the only show that you actually consider is Sesame Street Live: Elmo's Coloring Book.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen. . . .

Introducing Scarlett

It seems like my posts are often inspired by op-ed pieces i read in the NY Times. This morning's inspiration was an article written by author Alice Hoffman, entitled The Books of Summer. The article explores the phenomenon of associating a book that you read with a particular summer of your life, much like one associates particular songs or albums with a period of time (I was reminded of Peter Gabriel's "In Your Eyes" and my first boyfriend, and of the summer after my high school graduation, when my friends and I all were listening incessantly to Jane's Addiction - ahhh. . . "Summertime Rolls.")

But part of the article also discussed the summer that she and her mother both read the same novel, a time when she was on the cusp of womanhood, and her interests were meeting those of her mother, even as she and her mother were growing apart as mothers and daughters do.

As she described her, at the time, "modern mom" with the red lipstick, white sunglasses, slingbacks and turquoise and white sports car, I turned to thoughts of my own not-so-modern stay-at-home Mom. My Mom was not an anomaly; My mom was like the other moms I knew - she carpooled us in a faux wood-sided station wagon, fixed me peanut butter and honey sandwiches with Campbell's tomato soup for lunch, and unfailingly watched All My Children, One Life to Live, and General Hospital from 1 to 4 pm on weekdays.

I began to think, what books did my mom and I ever share? She is a voracious reader, but of the true crime, Law and Order, medical thriller variety; I enjoy historical fiction, non-fiction, and modern and classic literature. Then it dawned on me. . . .

We shared that southern girl's rite of passage read, the one that southern women have been handing down to their daughters since 1932. I remember the summer that my grandmother gave me her copy, the same copy that she had bought as a young woman when it came out, and the one that my mom had probably pulled down off of the shelf and read herself. I remember starting it and thinking, "hmm. . this is good." I still love the book, and i credit the book with fostering my love of history, especially Southern and American history, and in particular, an interest in the effects that the American Civil War had on people at the time, and which still resonate in the South to this day.

I still have that copy, with it's tattered blue cover. And now that I am expecting my own little girl, I look forward to the rainy summer day when I can pull it out and share it with her.

In Real Life

Admit it. In Real Life, you would never act this way.

Oh, The Weight of the Guilt

The mommy guilt, that is.

I work ten hours a week on a contract that should have been up in November of 2004, but which continues to drag on and on and on. It is hard to complain, when i can work at home, be with my little man, and get paid for it. It usually isn't too stressful, but when it is, I am completely torn. Today is one of those days. . . .

I woke up yesterday to find that a few errors had been assigned to me for my work. I told the assigner that i would get to them today, as I only work part time, and I had already made plans for Rollie and I to attend playgroup in the boonies. Plus, it involved a POOL. Did I mention that I am knocked up and there is nothing better than knocked up and floating in a pool? (Except maybe knocked up and floating in a pool while the nanny watches the boy. . . .)

So, this morning, i woke up and got started on my work. I have been trying to limit Rollie's TV intake, but when faced with a choice between Rollie watching Sesame while I work or Rollie hanging on my knee and "helping" me type while i work, guess which won out? Hello, Elmo! (You little red, fuzzy fucker. Teehee. . . "Fuzzy Fucker." Funny.)

So, now it is 1 PM, and i am still working my errors, Rollie has not only watched Sesame Street, but also an episode of Dora ("d-d-d-d_d-Dora!'"), and three episodes of Thomas.

I am the crappiest mother in the world.

L&D (Laborious and No Delivery)

I had some bleeding the other day. Here is what I wrote about the experience the next day. (yeah, yeah, I'm a little behind.)

Okay, so i called the mw this a.m. and they told me to come in and get checked. They would work me in.

Nurse Jackie puts the monitor thingy on me at about 10 am, then Laura (midwife) came in and looked (no contrax, baby looked fine) and then checked me and did a fetal fibronectin (guessing on the sp of that) and checked my cervix (long and closed). However, there was a lot of old blood and mucous, "more than we like to see." So, she wanted to admit me to the hospital to keep an eye on me.

She goes off to get the paperwork ready, and I call my mom (who, luckily, is in town and is able to watch Rollie). I call her and the minute she says hello, i can tell something is wrong by the tone of her voice, and then i hear todd's voice and the dog barking in the background. I say, "Mom, what is wrong? is everything alright?" and she says, "no, everything is not alright, but it will be." NOT what you want to hear when she is babysitting your son.

Turns out Rollie took a "little spill." Mom called Todd, because i had my phone off and she was a little shaken up. He had been playing in the back yard, had tripped getting out of the (Goddamn) Little Tykes plastic car, and fell face first on the (very rough concrete) patio.

She said that at first she didn't even notice the bump on his head, because of the ton of blood around his nose. So, anyway, turns out that he had a HUGE bump on his noggin, and that he scraped his face on the pavement, so he has the knot on his head, the bump is a total raspberry in the very middle of his forehead, the scrape goes down his whole nose, and then there is a big scrape under his nose/on his upper lip. He also has a few minor scrapes on the side of his head. Anyway, i am getting ready to go to the hospital, so I get todd on the phone, and tell him to stay with Rollie long enough to make sure the kid doesn't need stitches and/or have a concussion. Todd is trying to not freak out that his son might need to go to the ER while wife is 28 wks and being admitted to L&D, but he covers it very well. Kudos to hubby.

So, i went through the whole getting my chart and my papers and stuff, along with carrying my FFN sample with me, then walked over to the hospital. My midwives' office is at the doctor's center next to the hospital, so you can walk through the tunnel to get there. I wasn't freaking too much, because a) the blood wasn't red and b) if they were really worried, they would have gotten me a damn wheelchair to take me over.

Got to L&D and went to the admissions desk, where i had to deal with this grandma from hell who was working the desk. She was SSSLLLOOOOWWWWLLLLLYYYY doing my paperwork, all the while telling me all about her grandkids, and her kids and their nicknames, etc., while i was on my feet supposedly at risk for preterm labor. What a dumbass. The people behind me looked even happier - they actually WERE in labor and having to listen to this dingbat, chatty bluehair.

So, i went through all of that, and then they send you down this long drawnout labrynth of a hallway system to get to the part of labor and delivery that they use for watching people, rather than for people who are definitely in labor; I call this area "the L&D Slums."

I get settled in (scrap of gown to cover privates, cup to pee in, jab me in the veins, slather cold gel on me and strap me in for the afternoon.)

Did I mention that i had 2 c. of coffee and a granola bar for breakfast? And they were trying to get a hold of my mw or the admitting ob (part of my same practice) to find out if i could eat lunch. I finally had lunch when todd got there about 2pm. I ripped the bag of MACDonald's out of his hand, scarfed it down, and then said, "Hi, Honey, how's Rollie??"

So, Rollie was fine, and it seems that I was fine. But they had to monitor me until 5:30 pm when the Mw and the OB finally showed up to talk to me. They looked at my chart (baby fine, no contrax) and then asked me questions that I had already answered in the office that a.m. (no, didn't have intercourse recently, did have orgasms, have been on my feet, described the cramps, etc.) and then said they wanted to have a scan ordered (couldn't we have done this part while we were waiting on YOUR asses?), so i waited on the US lady to come down. She did a vaginal and tummy scan. Cervix looked fine, placenta wasn't near cervix and otherwise looked fine. Baby looked fine (she was still a she). The tech said her feet were "huge." Great. Looks like yet another girl with skis for feet. Then that tech had to take the pics to her specialist doctor in charge to look at. Great. meanwhile, the nurse said that the first pee specimen hadn't been done (did the initial test, but not the culture for infection), so i got to pee in the cup a 3rd time in one day!!! I am so lucky. Then, we had to hunt down my OB guy again to get me released, and they sent me home with instructions to make an apptmt for Friday to be rechecked.

So, we got in our separate cars, and then both sat gazing longingly at each other on the highway while we sat in some fucking concert traffic. I left the hospital at 7pm and got home at 8pm. To see my son, who looked like he had been beaten by Grandma.

So, long story short, I am supposed to "take it easy" (with a toddler, uh-hmmm.) I call tomorrow to make an office apptmt for Friday, and they should also have my culture back by then (I think to check for an infection). AND, my FFN was negative, so there is very little chance that I will go into labor in the next two weeks. Good to know . . . .

Obligatory before and after Rollie pics:

Before
















And After

The Ultimate Sacrifice

No, not that ultimate sacrifice. . . . I'm talking about the one where my husband kills the snake. That's right, my total stud of a husband did not hesitate to defend his home and family from the looming threat of the snake.

For those that don't me well, i have a small phobia of snakes. By phobia, i mean that i hate them and they should all die, and fuck the food web. No, seriously. When I am confronted with one, be it in nature, at the zoo, or on tv, the tie between mental and physical fear becomes obvious. I have a physical fear of them - i can absolutely feel my heart rate go up, and probably my blood pressure. I feel tense and sick when i see them. Anyway, there was a snake in the yard, I saw it out the window, Todd killed it with a shovel, and for two hours after that the parts were wiggling around in the yard. Meanwhile, i started having some crampiness/braxton hicks contractions - Maybe the two are not related, but it seems as if one caused the other.

Pretty freaky. But the point here is that i don't believe my husband particularly likes snakes, or killing things, but that he did not hesitate when he realized must be done. That snake had to die, and he did the killin'. My hero.

Major League Debut

Last night, Todd came home with four tix to the Braves/Cubs game. For all of his efforts at avoiding attending the baseball game with his toddler son and 7-months pregnant wife, he could only find one other friend to go with him, so Rollie and I decided to take the two extra tickets. [evil laugh]

Todd had reservations about Rollie's ability to handle a baseball experience that started at the same time Rollie usually goes to bed, but I just knew he would love it. Sure, he was a zombie at the end of the night, but by God, he was still awake!

Rollie loved the crowds, my Coca Cola, and crunching peanuts underfoot. The new lights that "spin" around the stadium dizzyingly kept him occupied for hours. There were a few homeruns and the Braves won, so he had the chance to see tons of fireworks out of a giant coke bottle, too! Rollie sat next to an old Braves fan and ate bbq in front of the huge bigscreen, and he really enjoyed watching mama and daddy doing the tomahawk chop. (He was way too cool to do the chop himself, but he sure did like the bugle music before everyone yells, "Charge!")

Interestingly, Rollie's major league debut coincided with the debut of a young kid named Jeff Francouer. It was his first game and he hit a three-run homer! He's Rollie's new favorite player!

Very Scared for This World, Very Scared for Me

This morning, I woke up, came downstairs and got a cup of coffee, then sat down to check my work email. I check it every morning to get it over with, as my contract is wrapping up and there is little work to do at this point. Rather, it is just making sure that no other issues arise. Normally, i would turn on Sesame Street for Rollie, but in light of the tantrums that he is throwing these days when we turn the television off, Todd and I had made an executive decision yesterday to limit Rollie's television viewing, so we were just playing and drinking coffee.

It was not until I had packed Rollie into the car and headed off to the grocery store that I turned on the radio to hear that there had been bombings in London.

My thoughts go out to those in London, and the UK as a whole. But more so, my thoughts turn to home, to my son and the unborn child I carry. I am reminded of the thoughts that I had in September of 2001. In early September, Todd and I had just begun discussing starting a family. We had decided that we would start trying to conceive in April of 2002, a year after we had been married. And then September 11 came and changed everything forever, at least in my eyes. I started to wonder what kind of world I was bringing my child into, and wavered between fear for these non-existent children and the belief that even having that thought was a win for those who wanted to change my way of life forever. Obviously, I went ahead with my plans to have a family, but these bombings have brought a lot of those thoughts back. What kind of world is this now? What will my son and daughter's world be like when they are my age?

I know that tomorrow things will go back to normal, but for today, I am shedding tears for those mothers who lost children (young or old) in London this morning. Hearts in America hurt for hearts in Great Britain today.

Haul Out the Deep Fryer!

This morning, I read a New York Times article entitled "Chicken on the Plate, Family on the Side" . The article discusses Emily Saliers' (of Indigo Girls fame) Decatur, Georgia restaurant, Watershed, but more importantly, it discusses the link between Southern cooking and the Southern family.

I often think about what it means to be "Southern" and about what parts of my heritage I want to pass on to my children. Yes, I want to pass on the understanding of what an authentic fried green tomato should be. (No, I'm not talking about this fancy-shmancy, flour-covered, horseradish mayonaise-on-the-side shitpile they've been serving in Atlanta the last few years.) However, I don't particularly want to pass on to my children a legacy of heart attacks, diabetes, and high blood pressure. The question is how to show the kids that good southern cooking is, historically, an important part of their southern culture, while also exemplifying a healthy view of food.

What I have decided, after a lot of thought, is that day in and day out we will eat the healthy stuff (lean meats, fish, and chicken, with healthy fats, ample fruits and vegetables, and low sugar). But, baby, when we have a holiday or the end-all, be-all southern cooking extravaganza of a DEATH IN THE FAMILY, we will pull out all the stops. Haul out the deep fryer!

Seven Months

Turns out I don't post that often. I haven't posted since finding out Iwas expecting! Well, it is month seven of the pregnancy. i am 27 weeks, and I am big as a house.

This baby (it's a girl!) is quite the kicker. Much more so than Rollie was. I sometimes yell out and scare the shit out of Todd when she kicks a rib, or bladder, or down there. Ouch. Rollie is so laid back, I hope kick frequency and strength isn't indicative of personality, or we are in trouble.

I haven't had sciatica as bad as last time. Still have the occasional acid reflux, and I think I feel more tired, but that could be because this time I am chasing around a two-year old (who can now officially outrun me!) Overall, though, I am feeling great. I am not as stressed, and worrying less this time around. I am also a lot more behind in preparing for this baby than I was with Rollie. Funny how having one of these monsters puts it all into perspective.

Rollie is really growing - i can't believe he will be two in August. It is like as soon as I had him, my whole life went into warp speed. I am happier than I have ever been before, though, and can't wait to add in another kid to the mix. Should be interesting. . . .

Okay, I am REALLy going to try and post more. I swear.