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the amory park dispatch: October 6, 2006
Now with burgeoning fundus.
I was sitting at the kitchen table when I conceived; it was a tiny nuclear reaction in my tummy, an energy burst. I immediately began referring to the zygote as Scooter.
So I shouldn't have been surprised two weeks later when the EPT blinked "pregnant" at me. Still, I squealed "Ho!" as I slid across the floor to the bed to collapse into JB's fuzzy chest, giggling mischievously. Three and half months later, I still break into giggle fits: I got a little person in my tummy-y-y, I got a little person in my tummy-y-y-y!
(It's pretty freaky if you think about it.)
However, being excited about having a kiddo does not mean that I am at all excited about the baby aesthetic. Baby stuff is wretched: it's saccharine and mawkish.
I perused the baby clothing section of Target recently and saw nothing -- aside from the plain white onesies, and some fun stripy stocking caps -- that I'd willingly put the little person in.
Likewise for the websites selling the irony-fused gear that as a late 30s Gen X parent-to-be I'm supposed to get my knickers in a twist for. Boob man tshirts and Ramones onesies are as equally lame as those with appliqued ducks and kittens.
Babies look just fine in footie pjs, their li'l ol' diaper butts, and maybe a little frog or Domo-kun hat. Shoes aren't even necessary until they're toddling about outside.
So, obviously, no baby shower for me, thank you. Just as I dreaded the concept of the big ridiculous wedding when I was a kid, I dreaded the thought of having to ooh and ahh over stupid booties at a baby shower. (Yes, I had atypical childhood dreads.)
I will graciously accept the inevitable well-intentioned gifts of jumpers appliqued with ducks and kittens. But if you're reading this and feel compelled to go shopping for an unborn stranger, check out my wish list of kids' music.
Kids like simple and repetitive, but generations of people flourished and accomplished great feats without the Wiggles and the Hi-5. I think the music on this list combined with the eclectic selection we already have will provide a good foundation for Scooter (there will be a stereo system in the nursery from day one). If anyone has suggestions for great music that both you and your kids adore, please let me know.
I've also started paying more attention to the Children's Book section of the NYTimes Book Review. I still have my favourite books from my childhood (Frog & Toad, Maurice Sendak, Ezra Jack Keats), and I want to add to the collection. If you have tips on beautifully illustrated, fun or challenging children's literature, again, I'd love to hear them. The goal is to provide our kiddo with a house full of music, books, art, goofiness, adventure, and love.
For the Nosy Parkers:
As someone who was once opposed to the idea of bringing a kid into this crazy world, yes, I have thought long and hard about the prospect of now doing such a thing. And my conclusion is: I'm intelligent, sane, educated, and happy -- why the heck not? The world has always been a crazy, mixed up, desperately unfair place and it likely always will be. A little joy and hope can't hurt.
::
Fatigue yes, indigestion and queasiness yes, vomiting no -- but my goodness major tummy bloat. Instant hot extra-firm boobs -- a double coned block heater for the rest of me -- but no varicose veins. I have been craving potatoes like nobody's business, but generally I'm suffering food aversions -- and aversions to things I normally would eat. For example, the thought of raw salad greens repulses me. This from a former vegetarian.
::
And for any other hypothyroid, irregular, late 30s women thinking it will be impossible to get pregnant without medical intervention: it took us one month to conceive. I made sure to Maude Lebowski every time.