Skip to main content

Everybody's Doing It But Me

Everybody's having a baby but me. Ok, so that's an exaggeration. Some women are pregnant and I'm not even trying. It just seems like everywhere I look I see big, happy, baby bellies and when I look down all I see is a little, white, hairy pouch that never gets flatter no matter how many situps I do. Whether it be my friends, family, colleagues, stars on TV or strangers in the park, women are planning for the arrival of their second child and here I am planning for the arrival of my first fake tooth.
When we had Caroline, we never talked about having number two because we were so focused on number one. It seemed an unstated agreement between the two of us that we would make her a little brother or sister, we just didn't know about the timing. Last summer, I decided the timing was right and I was ready. Just as the "trying" was about to commence, all the business with my tooth started and our baby making was delayed. I am a control freak and do not like things to happen outside of my control. I also do not like change. The last eight months have been incredibly aggravating for me because my plans have been changed. A series of events have occurred outside of my control.
The months have allowed me time to think about what it means to have a second child. Maybe too much time. Between that fateful tooth removal and now, Caroline turned two. And with two years of life came temper tantrums, naptime refusals, picky eating habits and a whole lotta attitude. I'm so tired. I can barely handle one. How would I manage with two?
Every morning when it takes 25 minutes to get Caroline dressed and she slaps me because she is frustrated that her stroller is stuck in a corner, I look at the pouch and give it a little smile. A little fat doesn't need diapers. A little fat doesn't keep me up at night or puke on me. A little fat comes with me when we go out and therefore does not require a babysitter. Yes, she does need to be fed and she does like a walk now and then, but a little belly does not talk back, she is not picky and she doesn't run away from me in a parking lot.
For now, while I wait for the arrival of my fake tooth from the dental stork, I look at the pouch and try to find contentment in life's current situation. We are a happy family with a nice rhythm in place. I'm so lucky to have a healthy, beautiful, silly girl.
At night, after putting Caroline down for bed thirty minutes late because she had to watch Thomas thirty times, I watch a little TV. It is then that I rest a bowl of ice cream or a glass of wine on the belly-shelf and enjoy the anticipation of future-expectancy. Am I worried or sad that having another baby will make me lose my little pouch? No, of course not! After all, it will go away for a little while, but I know it is guaranteed to return.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Me V. Parental Judgement

When you are pregnant, there’s so much to think about when considering the future: what color to paint the nursery, what decorating scheme to select from Pottery Barn, whether to go with disposable or reusable diapers, what to name your little nugget, and even deciding to use a cake or a box of balloons for the gender reveal party. You quickly learn that, if you share any of these decisions with anyone, you are bound to get opinions- lots of them. And, while this isn’t the first time we get solicited or unsolicited advice (where to go to college, what to choose as a major, what profession to pursue, who to date, who to marry, what dress to wear to the wedding, who to invite to the wedding, what type of alcohol to serve at the wedding..) the birth of a child seems like the first time that SO MANY opinions are given. It’s already a time of anxiety and unknowns that the opinions of others can easily feel overwhelming.What, I should have gotten the rocker that swings from side to side ins…

Holiday Letters- in Two Versions!

I don’t know about you but I love a good holiday letter. Nothing sends me into a tailspin of self doubt and depression like reading the carefully crafted story of the highs and accomplishments of those in my life. As the letters flow in, alongside the photos of the beautiful smiling faces of my loved ones, I curl up under a warm blanket, look out at the bleak, gray winter skies and think: what the fu#k is wrong with me?We are so fortunate, due to modern technological advances, to be able to experience this self doubt an average of 20-50 times per day as we addictively scroll a variety of social media channels. Yet nothing truly confirms our own personal inadequacies like a yearly summary of others’ successes and happiness neatly packed in an 8 1/2 X 11 sheet of paper, folded in thirds and slipped into an envelope alongside a card collage of beach shots, matching sweaters and smiling, happy faces. I, too, have sent along such letters to accompany our smiling happy faces, providing thos…

Work Family

Did you know that you spend around 90,360 hours at work during your lifetime? I usually only write about my job in the most vague terms but work is, and always has been, a really important and vital part of my life. A hundred years ago, when I left my first professional job, I remember it felt like somebody died. At the time, Andy, who, shockingly wasn't in touch with my emotions, asked me why I was felt this way. I told him I was so upset because I felt like I was leaving my family. I can still remember, clear as day, when I gave my resignation. I had just taken a ride in the Oscar Meyer wiener hot dog mobile (Yeah I know I had an awesome job) and I felt incredibly sick to my stomach. I went home that night and cried like somebody died. I remember Andy asking me why I was so upset and I wasn’t sure how to articulate it. Looking back now I better understand why I had such a visceral reaction to leaving my employer. I think part of it was because it was my first real job. I think …