I haven't had so much as one comment on this blog since March. I am beginning to think that I should delete it. Talk me out of it, I dare you.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Friday, July 06, 2007
32 week ultrasound images, as promised
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
Moving, nesting, anxiety and reassurance
The latest of what seems like a zillion apartment moves over the past few years has come and gone...Matt and I have been established in our new pad for nearly a month now. Of course not everything has been put away, but we're diligently fighting our usual pattern of get-things-functional-then-slack-off, leaving boxes of crap unpacked, pictures un-hung, and generally ensuring that our domicile looks like the home of a couple of wayward drunken college students.
We've had to throw out / sell some old crap, but that's way past due anyway, given that my husband is a pack-rat and I'm swinishly lazy. In any case, getting rid of some of the clutter has actually been somewhat liberating, although I suppose it's only a temporary lull before the tide of baby gear begins to fill (nay, overflow!) the void.
I guess this recent futzing about is my manifestation of the "nesting" instinct -- and why not, given that there's roughly two months before arrival of Screaming Infant. In my case, "nesting" isn't so much a matter of cleaning as it is "sort, organize, arrange, and streamline"...perhaps the cleaning will come in later, but for now the relative lack of uncluttered surfaces to clean is forcing me to be generalized in my approach. (This is just as well...I'd hate to see myself morph into some kind of OCD maniac, although given my slacker personality this seems nearly impossible.)
I'm not claiming that I've become a marvel of productivity, mind you -- only somewhat more productive than usual. Hell, on most nights Matt and I are both pretty wiped out by the time we get home from work, and the notion of home-making of any sort doesn't really appeal to either one of us (even under the best of circumstances). Nonetheless, we're getting things done...kudos are especially due for Matt, who has to take on the lion's share of the heavy work but has been extremely patient and good natured about doing so. (To my spouse: baby, yer da bee's knees. :-*)
I'm anxious about the pending childbirth ordeal, but far more so about the responsibilities of motherhood that will follow hot on the coattails of the labor and delivery experience. It's occurred to me that I'm feeling isolated...not in the sense that I'm living in outer Mongolia, of course. Essentially, I'm beginning to recognize the lack of female presence / friends in my life, and wondering how this may effect my attempt to take on the role of "mother".
Not that this dearth of female companionship is any sudden or even recent development -- I've always been sorta-kind of a loner; my close friends are few, and I usually prefer to spend my time by myself or with my significant other. Also, I seem to get along better with men...my attempts to form close friendships with females have historically ended badly, beginning in childhood and continuing more or less along the same path to the present. (Come to think of it, many of my friendships with men haven't exactly been stellar either, but that's another story.)
Anyway, until I got pregnant this lack-of-female-energy dynamic wasn't anything I thought about much. But now it seems like it may be time to make an effort to find some female friends -- and yes, including those who have children of their own. I guess that must sound pretty lame, but it seems to be the right thing to do, along with donning a cheerfully patterned house dress, bobbing my hair in a matronly fashion and accessorizing with June Cleaver pearls. Next thing you know, I'll be taking up knitting. *rolling eyes*
Maybe it's not so odd how the notion of joining the ranks of the child-ed makes me so uneasy. I can take my tongue-in-cheek pot-shots at cornball "mommy" stereotypes all I want, but I think the underlying issue is that I'm feeling insecure about my own abilities to negotiate this incredible change looming before me. The "mommy" lifestyle (and all the un-hipness it may entail) is about to become my lifestyle, and damned soon at that.
I guess that I could be bracing myself for a hefty dose of return Karma for my years of ruthless bashing of all things family-oriented during my early to mid twenties. I mean, the laws of poetic justice surely demand that such atrocious behavior in an overindulged, arrogant young woman is CERTAIN to result in her having a demonseed child which destroys her body and soul, don't they? I'm sure that there are some women out there who may have wished something like this happening to me when they heard me spouting off my booze-fueled ignorance back in 1994. When I think about this, oh how I cringe...laugh away, ye smug middle-aged family gals!
Alright, alright...shout it from the fucking rooftops; I was a an idiot when I was younger and I was very wrong about many things in which I was convinced that I was right. But there's been a lot of water under the bridge since then, and I've learned a lot about myself, and such is life. My transition from "snarky, cynical, self indulgent and sacred-cow-torching smart ass" to, well, "whatever-the-hell-I-am-now" has been interesting for me, and perhaps pretty amusing to anyone who's known me for a while. I expect to be teased ruthlessly during the approaching transition into motherhood by some of these folks, but what the hell...humility builds character, or is that adversity...?
It makes no odds; I suspect that there will be plenty of adversity and humility on my plate soon enough. And (these days at least) I try not to take myself too seriously anyway...putting myself on any sort of pedestal seems like a pretty efficient way to ensure that I'll be knocked right off of it, ass over tit -- and usually by my own hubris and stupidity. Now, can I have some hot sauce with this big slice o' humble pie, pretty please?
In the meantime, I keep moving forward in my efforts to muster the energy to provide an acceptable level of sane, responsible and loving parenthood -- an intimidating proposition, but hardly a unique one. Emotionally, I think that the whole motherhood picture is still fairly abstract for me, but it's not as though the calendar will pause for the sake of my confusion, wariness, insecurity or general lack of having my shit together. Appropriately enough, I can feel Sy kicking around inside of me as I type this, and it's giving me an odd mix of reassurance and anxiety...I really, really hope I can do right by this little guy.
Okay, I'm off to the perinatologist's this afternoon...I should have some new ultrasound images posted soon. Happy fourth!
We've had to throw out / sell some old crap, but that's way past due anyway, given that my husband is a pack-rat and I'm swinishly lazy. In any case, getting rid of some of the clutter has actually been somewhat liberating, although I suppose it's only a temporary lull before the tide of baby gear begins to fill (nay, overflow!) the void.
I guess this recent futzing about is my manifestation of the "nesting" instinct -- and why not, given that there's roughly two months before arrival of Screaming Infant. In my case, "nesting" isn't so much a matter of cleaning as it is "sort, organize, arrange, and streamline"...perhaps the cleaning will come in later, but for now the relative lack of uncluttered surfaces to clean is forcing me to be generalized in my approach. (This is just as well...I'd hate to see myself morph into some kind of OCD maniac, although given my slacker personality this seems nearly impossible.)
I'm not claiming that I've become a marvel of productivity, mind you -- only somewhat more productive than usual. Hell, on most nights Matt and I are both pretty wiped out by the time we get home from work, and the notion of home-making of any sort doesn't really appeal to either one of us (even under the best of circumstances). Nonetheless, we're getting things done...kudos are especially due for Matt, who has to take on the lion's share of the heavy work but has been extremely patient and good natured about doing so. (To my spouse: baby, yer da bee's knees. :-*)
I'm anxious about the pending childbirth ordeal, but far more so about the responsibilities of motherhood that will follow hot on the coattails of the labor and delivery experience. It's occurred to me that I'm feeling isolated...not in the sense that I'm living in outer Mongolia, of course. Essentially, I'm beginning to recognize the lack of female presence / friends in my life, and wondering how this may effect my attempt to take on the role of "mother".
Not that this dearth of female companionship is any sudden or even recent development -- I've always been sorta-kind of a loner; my close friends are few, and I usually prefer to spend my time by myself or with my significant other. Also, I seem to get along better with men...my attempts to form close friendships with females have historically ended badly, beginning in childhood and continuing more or less along the same path to the present. (Come to think of it, many of my friendships with men haven't exactly been stellar either, but that's another story.)
Anyway, until I got pregnant this lack-of-female-energy dynamic wasn't anything I thought about much. But now it seems like it may be time to make an effort to find some female friends -- and yes, including those who have children of their own. I guess that must sound pretty lame, but it seems to be the right thing to do, along with donning a cheerfully patterned house dress, bobbing my hair in a matronly fashion and accessorizing with June Cleaver pearls. Next thing you know, I'll be taking up knitting. *rolling eyes*
Maybe it's not so odd how the notion of joining the ranks of the child-ed makes me so uneasy. I can take my tongue-in-cheek pot-shots at cornball "mommy" stereotypes all I want, but I think the underlying issue is that I'm feeling insecure about my own abilities to negotiate this incredible change looming before me. The "mommy" lifestyle (and all the un-hipness it may entail) is about to become my lifestyle, and damned soon at that.
I guess that I could be bracing myself for a hefty dose of return Karma for my years of ruthless bashing of all things family-oriented during my early to mid twenties. I mean, the laws of poetic justice surely demand that such atrocious behavior in an overindulged, arrogant young woman is CERTAIN to result in her having a demonseed child which destroys her body and soul, don't they? I'm sure that there are some women out there who may have wished something like this happening to me when they heard me spouting off my booze-fueled ignorance back in 1994. When I think about this, oh how I cringe...laugh away, ye smug middle-aged family gals!
Alright, alright...shout it from the fucking rooftops; I was a an idiot when I was younger and I was very wrong about many things in which I was convinced that I was right. But there's been a lot of water under the bridge since then, and I've learned a lot about myself, and such is life. My transition from "snarky, cynical, self indulgent and sacred-cow-torching smart ass" to, well, "whatever-the-hell-I-am-now" has been interesting for me, and perhaps pretty amusing to anyone who's known me for a while. I expect to be teased ruthlessly during the approaching transition into motherhood by some of these folks, but what the hell...humility builds character, or is that adversity...?
It makes no odds; I suspect that there will be plenty of adversity and humility on my plate soon enough. And (these days at least) I try not to take myself too seriously anyway...putting myself on any sort of pedestal seems like a pretty efficient way to ensure that I'll be knocked right off of it, ass over tit -- and usually by my own hubris and stupidity. Now, can I have some hot sauce with this big slice o' humble pie, pretty please?
In the meantime, I keep moving forward in my efforts to muster the energy to provide an acceptable level of sane, responsible and loving parenthood -- an intimidating proposition, but hardly a unique one. Emotionally, I think that the whole motherhood picture is still fairly abstract for me, but it's not as though the calendar will pause for the sake of my confusion, wariness, insecurity or general lack of having my shit together. Appropriately enough, I can feel Sy kicking around inside of me as I type this, and it's giving me an odd mix of reassurance and anxiety...I really, really hope I can do right by this little guy.
Okay, I'm off to the perinatologist's this afternoon...I should have some new ultrasound images posted soon. Happy fourth!
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