baby-made magic

something magical happened to me recently.

I knew it was coming - you could even say I'd made it happen. but it caught me unawares in the intensity of it, the smallness, the sweetness, the aww of it. suddenly every storyline in every sappy movie that involved a baby - oh, a baby... - had me cooing like a pigeon. every sticky little mitten, each formerly sacharine-sounding word to describe these creatures was suddenly capable of reducing me to a pile of goo. "precious," "angel," "pumpkin pie" (that was the night nurse's way of not learning any babies' names: "and how are mommy and daddy and little pumkin' pie?" she'd ask at 3 am...)

it's been quite a ride, and it's just getting started, and I'm loving it so deeply. I think irony is dead, at least on this blog, at least for the time being.

hapiness is

a full, dry, clean, sleeping baby on your chest.
a quiet house on a sunny day after the bit of tiny laundry is folded.
Fleeting.
but fleeting the way the sun flits behind clouds momentarily - you never truly doubt its return.

Baby likes to dance

Last night I met up with a friend who is a salsa instructor at a ballroom she frequents. Doesn't that sound so old fashioned and elegant? There was no smoke, no alcohol, no meat market. It was the perfect dance club for someone in my condition.

And baby likes to dance. In fact, it's how he wakes me up every morning. He's worse than a dog, I swear. What is it he's doing in there anyway? It feels like he's tripping the limited womb-light fantastic, or trying to stand on his head. Very strange, this fluttering, poking, water balloon on my organs feeling.

I like to interpret his movements. If someone is doing something to annoy me, and baby kicks, that means he's on my side. If I'm having a great time and baby kicks, he likes the same things I do. If I'm sad and baby kicks, he's agreeing that the world is can be a messed up place, but also assuring me he's ready to come out and make some changes.

Being a creature of the internet age, I turn to youtube and wikipedia in my time of wondering. "Fetal movement" calls up 46 results of pregnant bellies. I don't need to see these, but it's somehow reassuring that 46 people found this amazing enough to go to the trouble of filming it and posting to youtube. Wikipedia was more enlightening, describing the quaint notion of quickening and the more modern conception of fetal movement:

By about week 21, the fetus begins to develop a regular schedule of movement.^[13] The startle reflex is present in half of all fetuses by week 24 and in all fetuses by week 28.^[15]

I noticed the startle reflex last week. I was riding home from work, pedaling through Castleberry Hill on Peter Street, when a car decided not to pull out suddenly from a side street without bothering to stop first. This happens often at that particular intersection, so I'm usually prepared, but that night I was distracted. As my hand flew out to get the driver's attention and my heart flew into my throat, baby took a dive to the left, away from the car. Only 21 weeks and already he has the reflexes of a much younger man.

In later pregnancy, a complex motion called "stepping" develops. This movement consists of circular "bicycling" motion of legs, which helps the fetus move to a head-down position in preparation for birth.^[11]

BICYCLING! I knew this kid was mine.

Easy makes 420

Last night's Critical Mass was the largest ever in Atlanta, after an AJC article yesterday brought them out of the woodwork.

Angel (he of the green dress and rollerblades) counted 419. I told him to make that 420.

Josh celebrated by having a couple of 420s while I watched, sipping my lemonade longingly.

I learned my lesson - almost got jumped last week for just holding a beer for the girl seated next to me at the opening Atlanta Dream game.

Great seats, by the way - baby loves womens' basketball already - he was jumping around and cheering inside. I think I'm having cheerleader. Josh will be so proud.

naming names

We do have a name picked out, and we're not telling, so don't ask :-)

I learned this from my sister - when I wouldn't tell what names we were considering, she said, "When I have a baby, I'm going to name it Luke!" This elicited a round of boos from our loving family, proving me right.

I love our name, though. It's got just the right old fashioned, solid ring to it. Josh will probably nickname him immediately though, which takes some of the pressure off.

For now, just call him Easy E. The solo version. I'm hoping this will influence him to be easy to birth.

I knew it!

It's a boy! Guys, pause that high five in midair and ask yourself if you would have the same reaction for a girl. Why is this? I'm thrilled to be having a boy, I knew it all along, but why is this somehow cause for a high five, whereas a girl is more "aww..."?

And why did having a baby turn me into a gender warrior? I blame Target and all the frilly pinkness out there. Now at least you won't have to hear me pleading with you not to give us lacy dresses.

From Meat Market to Mom Market - $800 strollers and baby likes

Garrett and Julia, this is for you!

We were eating pizza not too long ago when G told us the story of a co-worker of his. Two weeks pregnant, she is already a world-class milker.

"Baby does not like the color of this meeting room. Baby does not like your cologne. Baby needs to step outside. Baby needs to sit down, so move over!" I need to meet this woman and learn from her.

I've adopted this as my mantra. It's the excuse I was always looking for, all these years!

Baby likes back rubs - they make him feel relaxed. Baby likes it when daddy makes dinner so that he can rest after a long day. Baby is pretty sure he will like beer. Baby is hoping mommy has a nice cold one just as soon as he pops out. Baby likes dancing to loud salsa music outside. Baby likes to watch daddy working the yard. Baby does not like meetings, not one bit, nor people who call them. Baby prefers to eat corn and watermelon pretty much every night, followed by ice cream and possibly more watermelon. Baby is a demanding creature, but he's well worth it.

Baby does not like $800 strollers, but he did like this article:

In her new book, Parenting, Inc.: How We Are Sold on $800 Strollers, Fetal Education, Baby Sign Language, Sleeping Coaches, Toddler Couture, and Diaper Wipe Warmers - and What It Means for Our Children, journalist Paul draws on her own parenting journey as she examines this new phenomenon.

She calls it, "the anxiety of underspending," and attributes its rise to savvy marketers capitalizing on the insecurities of new parents coupled with a celebrity-mad media which breathlessly catalogues every new toy or outfit sported by Suri or Shiloh.

"People are more worried about spending too little instead of spending too much...They worry 'if I don't get this mobile for my 4-month-old, is he going to fall behind?," she says.

In the book, the Time magazine contributor reports on what psychologists and educators have to say about some of today's "must-haves," as she pulls back the curtain on the baby business and the estimated $1.7 trillion "mom market." She offers some peace of mind and perspective to those of us dealing with both the sticker shock and the pressure to buy, buy, buy (which, by the way only seems to grow as fast as our babies do.)

"I think you can never underestimate what a parent will buy in a moment of desperation if the right buttons are pushed," she explains, referring to her own set of impulse buys gathering dust and cluttering corners of her home.

Baby is cheap!

to lay blame

Pregnant women come face to face with many of the most vexing philosophical and moral questions of our times. For me the greatest struggle lies in the question, to blame or not to blame (the baby every time I screw up, that is).

This past week I faced a difficult situation at work. Okay, a difficult person. And I had to answer the question -- is there any way for me to draw the fetus into this? I concluded that there was. And sure enough, it worked! The difficult person went home and came back two days later refreshed, relaxed, and more solicitous of me and my burgeoning belly. Victory!

Hey, that's got a nice ring to it: Victory Woiderski.

Lesson: do try this -- at home, at work, whenever, wherever. It WORKS.

10 months??!?!?!?

The Ten Month Tour de Belly -- explained

As best I can figure, this whole 10 month flap has something to do with Gregorian, Lunar, and Vegetarian calendars and which one you're on. For now, since I'm 30 years old, have never done this before and am not in any rush to have a living breathing ball of colic running around my dirty floors, I've decided to get on the calendar that will drag this out the longest. Check back with me in August, when I'm pretty positive I'll be switching to the one that gets the little kickball monster out the fastest.

My dad told me he was shocked, appalled even, when the hospital discharged he and my mom with screaming baby me after just a few days. Couldn't believe they were considered prepared enough...luckily my mother is a superbly competent woman at everything she tries, and my father's parenting skills did kick in soon enough -- right around the time I got big enough to kick a soccer ball (and throw a baseball, shoot a basketball, hit a tennis ball...you get the picture).

So far, it hasn't sunken in for us that what are now symptoms will one day be a small human -- in our living room, to stay, for 18 years (or 25 in Buckmaster years).

The common cold and moon landings

Help -- I can't stop telling people! Today I only told one perfect stranger, but somehow that seems like enough. And I was going to play this so cool... baby madness is an easy contagion.

Having a baby falls somewhere in between catching a cold and a moon landing. It happens seven times a second! Whereas someone catches a cold only 3 times a second. Ok, I made the cold statistic up, but the baby number is real. Seven times a second. Kind of makes you think. Or want to sneeze.

Thought from a friend to stave off the nesting impulse buys -- women in other places do this with much, much less. So can I! It's all up to you though -- no throwing me fancy baby showers or sending me ridiculously adorable websites with like www.shoppingfortwo.com or www.buymemommy.net.

Of t-shirts and other pregnancy essentials

Like most people, I've known a pregnant woman or two -- oops, sorry, a woman "with child." And I've been just as annoyed by them as any other rational, with-out child adult. And then it happens. You're a little late, you start feeling even nuttier than usual, and you have a strange aversion to coffee and beer. This, for me, was the final straw.

So I took the test (okay, I took two tests, just like everyone else apparently), and took the dive into the strange world of baby books that use the word "expect" a minimum of two times, three if it's a really really good book, and into the virtual mommy world where you're no longer really having a baby unless you're blogging about said baby.

The title for this blog comes not from any belief that our baby will be stupid -- nay, this will be the smartest, most brilliant creature ever in existence -- but from the desire to stay sane and blue and pink clothing free throughout these 10 months (yes 10! but that's the topic of another post). There are enough people having perfect babies out there, swept into perfectly coordinated rooms, perfectly coiffed and changed the second they burp tiny bubbles onto their perfect onesies. But the allure of perfect is strong, so I decided to turn to the web for support in my quest for imperfection.

I hope you'll read along and help me avoid the pitfalls of hundred dollar organic sheet sets, tiny monogrammed towels, and designer diapers.

But back to the title! Like any other slightly nerdy expectant couple still childless in their thirties, we immediately started coming up with t-shirt slogans. "Future gearhead," "It's just a parasite," and "Step away from the belly" were all fine and well, but I really brought down the house with our favorite warm fuzzy maternity t-shirt slogan, "I'm with stupid." This is beyond tasteless, yes? But somehow comforting in an overdeveloped world in which having a baby is treated as the most unique experience in the world, when in fact, it is perhaps the most common. Think about it -- any culture that doesn't participate in this rite (wasn't it the Shakers that didn't reproduce?) doesn't last long. Everyone is connected to the experience of birth.

Obvious, but in a world where CNN flashes celeb baby bump items as News feeds, it feels necessary to remind myself that having a baby is just as ordinary as it is amazing.