Monthly Archives: January 2011

Storm of the century, schmentury

In case you didn’t know…

this is apparently why people live this far south.

And yes, people are freaking out about Wednesday and Thursday.

And I had a lot of sympathy for them and said, “People, it’s not like the low temp even matters!”

(Maybe it does, when you’re worried about your palm trees dying.)

Also? It was 85 yesterday. I thought maybe a miracle had happened and I’d been allowed to sleep the last 19 weeks of my pregnancy.

(The J months are so hard because they’re all alike.)

Why is no one feeling sorry for me?!

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Filed under Playing the Tourist, This is going to be really funny one day

Babies, babies, babies

I know you’re not supposed to live through your children, expecting them to like all the things you like and do all the things you never got to do.

But I suppose it would be hard for any parent not to have some sort of hope that your child will have some things in common with you.

I’m one of those annoying people who loves babies. I’ve been babysitting since the age of nine. I did it almost full time through high school. I chose the nursing school I wanted to attend, in part, because the brochure showed a nursing student in the NICU. I did my senior practicum in Nursing school in the NICU while pregnant with my firstborn. You could not have paid me any amount of money to leave my baby with anyone that first year of his life.

I love the newborn phase and don’t understand what anyone is talking about when they say they hated breastfeeding, the first 6 months were a blur, and babies generally ruin your life. I think even their diapers are cute. I don’t need that much sleep (except when I’m pregnant) and I do crazy things with newborns, like take them to the movies and out to eat in the first week. And, oh yeah, I work as a nurse in Post-partum and nursery and am pregnant with my fifth baby. (This is starting to explain everything, isn’t it?)

So, I can’t tell you how delighted I am that Felicity loves babies so much. She can spot a baby at the store halfway down the aisle and then she strains and strains to see his face. She collects pictures of babies from the mail, catalogs, magazines. She has four baby dolls that she loves to push around in her stroller. She makes them talk and sometimes throws them on the ground, but she is only 2.

And she got a book from her grandparents that she completely loves. And you’ll never guess what’s inside.

(Sorry, it’s kind of long, but I knew the grandparents would enjoy it.)

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Filed under Girls are not boys, She's having a baby

It’s the inanimate objects you’ve got to watch out for.

This is S.

He’s going to be 9 years old next month.

He’s as tall as his older brother and one shoe size bigger.  He’s the only kid that obviously takes after my side of the family. He’s got our big feet, with the second toe longer than the first, the big ears, the big teeth and red hair. He’s very ticklish, too. He also rolls his eyes like his mother, which is a terribly annoying habit. He should really stop that.

From the time he was a baby, sitting in his highchair, we noticed that he never stopped moving. Wiggling, constantly. I know, all babies are like that, but he was more like that than others. As he got older we noticed another phenomenon. He was always falling down. Even when there was nothing in front or behind him. We thought it was his big feet.

When he “sits” at the table during meals or doing his schoolwork, suddenly the chair will scoot out from under him or fall over and he’ll be on the floor laughing. And we’ll ask him, “Did your chair just throw you to the ground?” It happens all the time.

So, yesterday morning at breakfast I caught just the hint of blue around his eye.

“S, what’s on your eye?”

He looks down, smirking.

“No, really. Did you get hit in the eye? When did it happen?”

“Maybe yesterday?”

What happened?”

“I don’t know.”

“Really? It looks like blue eye shadow. Were you wrestling?”

“No.”

“Okay, so what happened? Did someone hit you accidentally?”

“No.”

“S. Just tell me. What happened? Why didn’t you tell me yesterday? We could have put ice on it. What hit you in the eye?”

“Maybe the wall?”

“Okay. Did you have your eyes closed or something on your head so you couldn’t see?”

“No.”

(Laughing) “Okay.”

“Should I put ice on it?”

“No, it’s really too late for that.”

So, now we have to worry about the walls beating him up.

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Filed under Aren't my kids funny?, Boys will be boys

To each his throne

I’m not keen on the whole-every-girl-is-a-princess phenomenon. It conjures up images of spoiled brats, with an entitlement mentality, fluffy pink dresses, and gaudy jewels. But that’s just me.

Mr. French, knowing how I felt about it, loved to bring it up to tease me. Usually, it was in the sense of doting on Felicity. And he usually got the reaction he was hoping for.

But I’ve noticed, as Felicity has shown her demanding, narcissistic 2-year-old self, that the tone has shifted towards the sarcastic.

This morning, I was still in bed, (have I mentioned that I’m pregnant?) when she came in asking for a piece of bread.

“Okay,” I said. “Can Daddy get it for you?”

With that, she was gone. I figured it would be a simple transaction. Within a few minutes, Mr. French and S walked into the room, sighing and saying something about girls being difficult.

“What’s the matter?” I asked. “Didn’t she just want a piece of bread?”

“Well, at first we thought she wanted bacon, but then we realized she just wanted ham.” said Mr. French.

“So, what is she eating?”

“A piece of ham on half a raisin bagel.” He said with a sigh. “Because that’s what the princess wanted.”

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Filed under Girls are not boys, I confess, Mr. French

You say it’s your birthday….it’s my birthday too.

J: Okay. Pretend it’s my birthday. Just pretend.

Us: Okay.

J: Then the next day, I don’t know what happens. But the next day after that, is the baby!

Us: Right! That will be fun.

(We decided not to explain how due dates are actually poorly educated guesses.)

(And for the record, this is why I hope I go a few days late. Although J seems to think having a baby on his birthday would be super-cool.)

(After I wrote this, Mr. French said he hoped the baby came in May or July, so it has it’s own month. I can assure you, if I have anything to do with it, that ain’t happenin’.)

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Filed under She's having a baby

Shall we talk about how much bigger one gets with the 5th pregnancy compared to the 1st?

Or, would that be annoying since it’s not really true for me?

Me: 19 weeks

Yeah, let’s forget I mentioned it.

It's hard to believe there's a baby in there sometimes.

It’s boring anyway.

On the other hand, it's only supposedly 7 oz., so where's the other 9 pounds I gained?

Let’s talk about how dirty my mirror is, instead.

I would tell you that I clean it every week but that’s what is known as lying.

It wouldn’t matter if I did clean it every week because it looks like this the day after I clean it, anyway.

I thought about cleaning the mirror and then retaking the pictures, but I had things to do, and I was having a good hair moment.

I have priorities, people.

P.S. You might be interested in this post from my 4th pregnancy. (FWIW, I think I am bigger at 19 weeks now than I was at 21 weeks then.)

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Filed under I confess, She's having a baby

10 going on 35

Around 9:30 last night, I was in the kitchen making myself tea.

C was finishing up reading aloud to Mr. French.

“Phew. I’m tired. It seems like we need to go to bed soon.”

I peeked my head around the corner. “C, did you know that from the time you were born you were always an adult in a little body?”

He smiled. Then looked at his Dad and said, “Is Mommy being silly, or…?”

“She just means that you think in grown-up ways sometimes.”

“Oh.”

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Filed under Aren't my kids funny?