howdoyalikethat

Pregnancy, week 37. Mood, beyond crabby. Stuggling to be nice...impossible without Starbucks 1st thing. Dropped f-bomb in front of kid. Have done it before in traffic but it's been easier to brush off. Kid repeated it and I had to explain that he can't say that without getting in a whole lot of trouble. Niiice. Kid admonished me, 'Just say things are stupid, Mommy.'

Couldn't complain too much at work, though. Colleagues threw me a baby shower: very cool. Margie and Kim pull through again. There isn't a thing Margie hasn't done for me. Hand-sewn clothes for me, baked me mole. It's like I'm one of her own. I want to be Margie when I grow up. I can't sew though. Overall, we have more clothes for Jack and a month's worth of wipes/diapers and a first aid kit. We're decently prepared now.

But, still dealing with The Belly. Happy to feel the little one in there but wishing things were less awkward and ungainly. Even maternity clothes don't fit anymore as most feel snug or have started to slide down The Belly.

A's birthday this weekend. I want him to have a nice celebration, but I really, really want the baby to come too. Maybe after we celebrate his birthday early....

G's kinder orientation tomorrow. I wanted time to clean out the car. I've been saying for over a year that I'd clean out. A half hearted attempt and then the toys, candy bits are all over the place again. My Volvo never had a speck of food in it. I do need to be a person of more moderation, re: tidiness. Half the time, it's one extreme or the other. Wish I had cleaned the car. But it's late now. And I have dishes to take care of. And of course, this is when I have time to do things [hahaha]. Life! Gotta love it, I think. And I do. Just...a little help with The Belly?

Toughness: a Myth?

Me, personally, I think toughness is a myth. I do believe in courage under fire and I think people are capable of heroics. But toughness seems temporary and anyone that insists that toughness is possible more than 60% of the time and that toughness is a virtue seems delusional at best. Alpha males may be celebrated in business but I'll happily take a beta, thank you.

My ex, most definitely was an alpha. Is, I guess I should say, since he's still alive. But he damn well made sure everyone knew who he was when he entered the room and he worked very hard to ensure everyone would remember him. And he would sooner die than admit that he was afraid of anything. When 9/11 occurred and I expressed my fears, I was lectured for being afraid, for feeling like the world was falling apart and I was told that I wasn't being a good American, in expressing my fears.

When the sniper attacks occurred, my ex loved telling everyone that he wasn't afraid. No one in the DC area was afraid, despite the news to the contrary. The sniper attacks seemed worse in that people were killed right outside their homes, mowing lawns, pumping gas and shopping at Home Depot. I've never felt more vulnerable than during that time period. But, my ex thought anyone that was scared was reactive and less of a person. Shortly thereafter, I can't remember what it was, but something occurred where he actually broke down and cried in front of me. And after witnessing his repeated denials that he could be afraid, I honestly hated him the most in that moment.

My father is no better. I love my dad but he is a fragment of what he could be. He, too, clings to this misbegotten ideal of 'toughness.' He never showed me a lick of affection once I was older than 4. Younger than 4, you're still fun to play with, I guess. Older than 4 and I got to hear all the many things that were wrong with me. My existence meant my parents had less money to travel, less freedom to go out. How dare I complain when my sister bothered me. Lucky to have food on the table, blah, blah. But that doesn't really touch on the toughness issue, other than my dad wasn't a believer in showing affection. No, the toughness issue: my dad, like me ex, will never admit when something bothers him. I'm going on 37 years old and I still have no idea what trauma occurred in my dad's family that he and his siblings have a distant relationship. I get little bits and pieces here and there but that's about it. If anything displeases my dad, he won't talk about it. Just suck it up! Yeah, that's healthy.

So I'm less than enthused to hear my spouse's opinion of my child rearing: I'm making my son a wuss because I have the audacity to comfot him when he seeks comfort during the night. It takes less than 4 seconds: my son cracks the door, looking for me, I step out, put him back to bed with a kiss on the cheek and he's happy. If I'm worried, I'l check his temperature and make sure he'll fall back asleep without problem but during this time, he doesn't fuss. My son gets reassurance and I'm happy as a parent because it doesn't feel like my son is asking for much. But my spouse is insistent that I'm ruining him.

I love how people assume you're an idiot when you don't agree with them. I've read Brazelton [my favorite], Foster and Kline...I care about being an educated parent. But my spouse prefers to believe that I'm 'impressionable.' Based on my experience and what I've read, you can't be 'tough' or confident without a good, nurturing environment. Lecturing a kid when he's half asleep doesn't seem effective to me. But there you have it. My spouse is convinced I'm raising a wuss. Maybe I am. But denial of fear seems so pathetic. I guess I'll take my chances.

On fear, honeymoon and kids

It's funny, when you're afraid, not quite sure how things will turn out and you take that leap and things turn out so much better than you ever could have expected or hoped for. I was pretty concerned about G adjusting to living with Andrew, afraid that we'd have more than our share of conflicts but things have been more than reasonable thus far. G still wakes up about 6:30a.m. [ugh] but we have our routine down cold. He pops his head in, I know to rouse myself, tuck him back into bed for another half hour [ideally] and then I camp out on a sleeper mattress, so G has reassurance I'm close by. People can say it's overkill, but it's been working well.

G has named A's pictures. The Asian style picture with colored blocks and interspersed calligraphy style marks has been dubbed 'messy picture.' An acrylic of A's street near a former house has been dubbed 'the road.' The only real adjustment now is all of us adjusting to Jack, once he arrives.

A and I have had quite the honeymoon. The wedding was perfect though I know G was tired. Foundation did such a beautiful job with the meal: Thai scallops and helping me tend G, taking him on a tour of the kitchen and giving him colored doubloons. And the cake -- I want to order more- strawberry cake with hints of key lime and coconut...crazy good. But the honeymoon: A and I went to NYC, of course, and while I did have difficulty walking thanks to the evergrowing belly, we hit the Met museum, Cooper Hewitt, SoHo for a tour of the tenements....Food-wise, we hit Mario Vitalli's restaurant Bacca[?] - I'm bad with names- , Pizza Neapolitano [ a new favorite] and Le Bernadine - heaven on earth.

The hotel was insane too: Hotel Rivington. We had a 9th floor corner room with views of the Brooklyn and Manahattan bridges on the lower East side. Japanese style bathroom, nice balcony, though I couldn't bear to look down. I want to stay there from now on, what hotel could possibly compare?

I'm wondering these days if I'm going to make it to Sept 19, Jack's big day. Everyone is eyeing the belly and telling me Jack will be early. I'm not sure what to say. But the facts are, he's a strong kid, my jumping bean [G was so mellow in the womb!] and I struggle to wak these days. Everyone at work is threatening to get me a motor scooter. I'm hoping I do make it to the 19th so the boys can at least share the 19th as their birthdays. That would be cool. And while G is virtually a carbon copy of me, I'm hoping Jack is more like A. One kid with my fears is enough. And, I'll be surpised if Jack isn't 80th or more on the percentile scale for growth. Half the time, it feels like he'll kick his way out. But I'm grateful for both kids, may they both be healthy and happy.