So I guess this is where I have to insert a rant about how little time I have, what an abysmal blogger I am, and how much of an irresponsible friend I am for not keeping up with my writing (sorry, Sarah!).
However, NOT GONNA DO IT. I hate those blogs that whine about their self-inflicted irresponsibility, so I’ll just say that my life has been full, so full that I have let the blog go untended.
Updates, then. You know you missed me.
This week I am 30 weeks pregnant. I have passed the “I hate everything about my existence because I am too busy puking” stage (5 months on that little trip) and have entered the “Cute round belly and fantastic maternity clothes” stage. Soon I will enter the “I am as big as a house and I dare you to tell me anything except that I am fabulously beautiful” portion of the pregnancy, which lasts until the last 2 weeks, in which mothers are usually in the “GET IT OUT OF ME NOW” stage.
We still don’t know the gender. And we’re not going to find it out, either. This has been controversial, and I have received two general responses to this, which are diametrically opposed on the reaction scale. The first is a back thumping, thumbs-up response of “Good-on-ya, mate!” (or for those less Aussie-friendly, “way to go!”). This person has usually been at some point a hippie, and/or doesn’t know what else to say. The other response is something akin to a raised eyebrow, usually followed by a comment about how they “could never do that, I’m just too much of a planner”.
Really, though, does it matter? It’s not like we’re going to throw him/her back if we get a gender we don’t like. How can you “like” one gender over another, anyway? This isn’t Szichuan or Calcutta. And planning? Come on. Do you really need to reinforce gender stereotypes so much that you have a completely blue everything if it’s a boy? Or pink if it’s a girl? It’s amazing how much of this is in our subconscious… Addie’s favorite color of the moment is black, and I dressed her in blue as a baby. No one ever mistook her for a boy, and if they did- so what? She is very comfortable as a girl, and no one would ever mistake this fairy-wing wearing, tutu-clad pixie for a boy.
So anyway, we’re asking for non-gender specific things on our registry, in gorgeous hues of green, yellow, red, chocolate, and blue. And this is yet another controversy- the registry and the shower for the second baby. I have sensed some reticence at the idea that one should register or have showers for a second child. I have been informed that my church only has showers for the first baby. Why? Your guess is as good as mine. Fortunately I have a fabulous friend who has offered to throw me a shower for Baby #2. Does this sound grasping and greedy? I hope not- I don’t mean to. The reality is that we are living on one income right now, and affording baby stuff is going to be challenging. Also, I gave almost everything away- except for the crib and most of Addie’s baby clothes- after she was done with them- to other mothers who needed them. So I’d like a shower.
And not only for the “reality” of it. There’s a sense of connection that these events have; a rare chance to see friends and spend a few moments with them before again separating and leading different lives. There’s also something so very communal about a group of people chipping in, eating mini-quiches and petit fours, and giving a mom some much-needed help, advice, and moral support. We don’t stop needing that as we have a second child- if anything, it gets more and more necessary.
And do I need a baby-wipe warmer? Probably not. Somehow I made it through my first baby without one. But registries are really just wish lists, not lists of demands. Babies for centuries have somehow survived without Diaper Genies and Baby Papasans. They have lived without Bummies and Nuk, without Baby Bjorn and Baby Einstein. I have no doubt that #2 will somehow make it through without all the paraphernalia, too.
But those petit fours and mini-quiches are so YUM.