This looks like it might be another randomata entry. Too many things I’m thinking about but nary a one clear way of developing them into something minorly poignant.
We have a house, by Jove!
Yesterday I spent three hours thinking about possible paint palettes in my mind (definitely keeping the red in the living room and the blue in the guest bedroom; nixing the taupe stuff in the master bedroom; must find cute shade for baby boy room; cannot believe am actually getting into decorating nursery, five months too late) while I waited for the inspection to be done. Oh man…. new house! New house! NEW HOUSE! I just sounded vaguely Forrest Gumpian in my mind there (“Loo-tenant Daaaaan! NEW LAAAAYGS!”) but dude. NEW HOUSE!
Herr Meow tried some water the day before yesterday. And yesterday he went a whole day without pooping. These events, I am sure, are not related whatsoever; I am just makng a mental note of the new things he’s doing. He’s also sitting for WAY longer periods unassisted as well. And I believe that he is a fan of Taylor on American Idol, because he HAD to stop nursing to look up at the tv and hear the song. Priceless, I tell you.
About the water: I was drinking a glass and he gave me this, “Hello? I’m sitting here and I don’t get any?”
So I let him paw the glass and he started to lick it (extremely cute). When the water was almost gone, I tipped the glass down to his mouth and he darted a curious tongue in and out. As he tasted the water he pulled away and made a grimace (“Ew! You call THAT drinkable?!”), but as soon as I took it away, he eagerly signaled for more. He did this a couple more times (“Surely it can’t be THAT bad…. Oh, Holy Moses in a basket, how do you people DRINK this?! Wait. Let me give it one… more…. try…. EOUGH!”) and then contentedly nuzzled himself into my bazoom and went back to his nursing, batting his eyelashes in delight as if saying, “Ah… sweet, warm…. the food of the gods!”
This will be my first Mother’s Day as a mom.
The Monsieur thought it was silly to celebrate Mother’s Day and Father’s Day while I was pregnant; however that still meant that we gave each other presents from The Meowster, who was probably rolling his eyes in utero –the first time of many to come, especially in about thirteen years. Somehow the promise of material goods (read: tools) made it less silly, if I remember correctly.
But this is the first year that we have a separate entity to show for, and who gives us our rightful titles. And honestly? It’s a little weird. I’m still not fully visualizing being someone’s mommy. Don’t get me wrong: I love being The Meow’s nurse, nanny, slave, four-in-one palanquin, burp rag, jungle gym and squeaky toy. But there is something in my brain that hasn’t really clicked with the whole “mommy-ness” of the bargain. I realize that caring for the baby IS being the mommy, but I don’t really feel that I deserve a day to somehow celebrate this title. I’m finding this hard to explain.
But let’s just say that now I *really* get what people mean about it being Mother’s day every day. Because after all, the job description and the joys and exhaustion and sorrows that tag along with it don’t end come May 15th.
A little over a year ago, I had a couple of scares that I thought were the sure signs of a miscarriage. I honestly don’t know how my life would have changed had that been the case, but I just have to say that I’m so very glad that the baby stayed with us. As ruthless and judgmental as I can be –and have been– within these pages, I would like to send very big hugs and much love to those girls who’ve ever had to deal with the sadness of a miscarriage. I really don’t know what more to say except that I am ever so sorry you had to deal with that much heartache. I know saying that things happen for a reason never helped anyone. And I cannot begin to imagine how much sorrow lies in your hearts if you’ve had more than one.
I am just so very sorry, and I hope the pain eventually does go away, even if the memory doesn’t.
On a very unrelated, ditz note: Trix is a fun cereal, but it really doesn’t do a good job of filling you up in the morning. Jeez.
Second unrelated, ditz note: If you spend over $4 on a coffee drink at Starbucks and you ONLY drink decaf, make sure that the drink you receive is actually decaf. Not knowing for sure sucks, especially when you’re thirsty and you really want to drink your caramel frappuccino but you think you CANNOT because if you do you’ll be freaky and jittery all day and then you’ll pass it on to your son who’ll think it’s time to party well into 2 am. And come to find out that it WAS actually decaf –because none of the things that you imagined would happen actually happened– and you could have had the whole thing.