Archive for the ‘Baby’ Category
…the more they stay the same.
Something about this photo
rang a bell, and I went looking through my archives, and found this, from June 2006.
Apart from the fact that Rilla at six weeks was about the same size as her new baby brother at two days, nothing much has changed, eh?
[Huck], born January 13th, 9 lbs 12 oz. :::swoon:::
(Psst, sweet friend, see what’s on the arm of the couch? The postman was walking up to our mailbox with your package at the very moment Scott, baby, and I pulled into the driveway. It’s beautiful. Rilla approves wholeheartedly. Thank you so very much!)
And one last shot, decidedly less than flattering but a little gift for my Twitter pals:
Put the ding-dang camera away, honey, so I can eat my PUDDING!
(I didn’t know this photo existed when I was twittering about pudding this morning. When I uploaded the photos this afternoon, I saw it and laughed and laughed. Scott must have snapped that during the one brief moment in time when the pudding was actually still in the bowl. I’m sure I was licking the dish clean five minutes later.)
During the long months of this pregnancy, I have been blessed with the companionship of a few special friends. We used to see each other only once a month, but lately we’ve been able to get together once or even twice a week, and how eagerly I have looked forward to these sweet moments of fellowship with women whose joy in motherhood outstrips even my own!
I realized today that our time together is drawing to a close…very soon (very, very soon, do you hear me?) it will be time to go our separate ways, and we shall see each other only once a year or thereabouts. Ah, dear friends, whatever will I do without you? Fortunately I happened to have my camera in my bag at our visit today, so I was able to capture a few treasured snapshots of these fair and tender ladies I have come to know so well.
Here they are all together with their precious infants, the whole beautiful bunch of them. Aren’t they lovely?
So serene, so gentle, so rouged.
I have learned so much from these ladies. For example, here I am about to give birth to my sixth child, and yet until I met Angelica would you believe I had no idea it was advisable to blow-dry one’s hair to a silky sheen, tie back a few glossy locks with a ribbon, don a ruffly off-the-shoulder gown, and apply several coats of blusher before sitting down to breastfeed one’s baby?
This is going to make a real difference in my next post-partum experience, let me tell you. Angelica always looks so calm and well rested. I realize now that my customary get-up of hastily scrunchied ponytail, spit-up-stained T-shirt, and no makeup whatsoever has been at the root of the exhaustion I typically experience during those first weeks with a new baby. LOOK beautiful and you’ll FEEL beautiful is Angelica’s motto.
Elspeth has a similar philosophy about pregnancy. I understand now that in banning white clothing from my wardrobe several sticky-fingered toddlers ago, I have been depriving myself of a kind of delicate radiance that would surely have blessed the child in my womb and all in our presence. And that band of pink ribbon below her bosom—how beautifully it offsets her the rosy glow of her lips. Every word that comes out of a mouth like that is pure honey, I suspect. (I can’t say for sure, because demure Elspeth never utters a word. But you can see just by looking at her that she is full of warm and soothing thoughts.)
As for our ringleted chum Swoozie, I admit I worry a little about her sometimes. Those raw bruises on her cheek…the dark rings around her eyes…her habit of staring off into the distance, lost in thought, absently feeding her infant without even looking at him…I have some concerns about her home life. But she has never uttered a word of complaint, so perhaps I’m mistaken. Possibly she is only thinking about when to get her next perm.
Oh, dear friends, how grateful I am for the many times you have entertained me while I waited for our obstetrician to amble into the exam room! It is very good of you, all of you, to have kept such a patient vigil with me as the long, long minutes ticked by.
You will be sorely missed.
The time has come upon me sooner than I expected. I knew I was going to need a good lightweight double stroller when the baby came, but I figured I could wait until, you know, after the baby was actually born. But the other night I took the kids on an outing, and when I went to pop Rilla into the sling, there was a big old belly in the way. I guess it had been a few weeks since I wore her—I haven’t been out much since the food poisoning nightmare. All of a sudden toddler-wearing is impossible. And because Wonderboy’s developmental disabilities mean he is much more like a two-and-a-half-year-old than a four-and-a-half-year-old, I can’t finesse group outings unless he’s in the stroller. It’s sort of like being six months pregnant with two-year-old twins.
I need a stroller that can contain both twins.
We have an ancient sit-and-stand stroller dating back to our New York days. I have rosy memories of wearing baby Beanie in the sling and pushing Jane and Rose down a steep hill to the little white church at the bottom. I would jog a little and get up some speed, and the tiny girls would hold up their hands and wheeeeee all the way down. (My memories of getting back up the hill after daily Mass are less rosy. Jane’s too, I’ll bet—I always made her walk home. That was one heavy, heavy stroller.)
The sit-and-stand still works and is great for our walks around the neighborhood. But I can’t lift it in and out of the minivan. Pathetic, I know. What can I say? I am a spaghetti-armed weakling.
So: what I’m going to have to find is a double stroller or sit-and-stand that doesn’t weigh very much. And doesn’t cost a fortune. And which can take abuse. Easy-peasy, right?
Well, here too. 🙂
When I read Suzanne’s post in May, I grinned big. I wasn’t quite ready to share our news yet, but Suzanne and I must be just about on the same schedule. Bairn number six is due to join this party in early January. Given my due date (New Year’s Eve, or Hogmanay to you Martha fans) and my track record (all five babies born somewhere between 41 and 42 weeks), Scott is fully confident I’ll be delivering on Elvis’s birthday. That’s January 8th, as if I need to tell you that.
We are all immensely excited. One of us is also fiercely ill, but that shouldn’t last too much longer. Here’s to our first California baby!
P.S. Whom did I miss up there? I know that sentence in blue has more linky potential.
UPDATE: I knew I was missing someone. Because I am a knucklehead, for real. “I’m not a smart person; I only play on on the internet.” I missed one of my best friends, of course. Whose big day is now only days away, and I’ve been counting down in giddy excitement. Ah, Sarah, how do you put up with me?
I asked Rilla to put some pasta away in the pantry.
Hours later, I discovered this:
Maybe she thought I said "plant-tree"?