Thankfulness of All Sorts

This weekend, we decided to come to my parents' house for a visit. Yesterday was my birthday, and J's too. Our generous, thoughtful daughter asked her grandparents to take her shopping so she could get presents for us, and they kindly agreed. She picked out a lovely watch for me ("because Mommy is always looking for clocks when we're out somewhere" - too true, I haven't had a watch in yonks), and a notebook/carrying case for J. She also picked out some cards, a cake, and a pink rose for me. And this morning, she got up early with Daddy and Poppy to make breakfast in bed for me and Nanny. We mainly decided to visit for the weekend so that L could be here to celebrate Mother's Day with Nanny (and also so we could get out on our own for a bit to celebrate our own birthday, which we did at a fantastic Indian restaurant) and I'm glad we did.

I realized something important yesterday (in addition to how sweet and thoughtful my little girl is turning out to be). Namely, that someone whose pregnancy is making her hormonal and extremely emotional should never attempt to watch the coverage of Canadian veterans celebrating the 65th anniversary of VE Day in Holland. On a good day, remembrance services choke me up - this one, with all the accompanying tales told by the dwindling number of vets, made me dissolve completely.

Ah, Motherhood

Today's motherhood moment: spending part of the money I have set aside for myself for some birthday shopping on a new Wiggles CD for L.

It's ok. She's upstairs listening to it now, and really enjoying it. All too soon, she'll want CDs from some obnoxious boy band or teenage skank. For now, I'll enjoy the songs about popcorn and how to wake up the tragically narcoleptic member of the group.

Back

So I haven't posted in a while, but it's for a good reason: namely, that my pregnant ass couldn't think of anything to talk about besides all these changes currently mowing me down, and as I hadn't told everyone yet I did the blogging equivalent of holding my hands nervously in my lap and flitting my eyes around the room until I figured out something to say.

Yeah, I am unexpectedly, surprisingly, amazing, with child. It doesn't seem real to me, actually. We had given up on the idea of a second child; in fact, we gave up on it so completely that we had moved on and were just fine, thanks. I could look at babies without feeling that twinge. I could look at pregnant teenagers and not feel bitter. And then, surprise! To be honest, it is still not real to me. I'm due in December, and the news might possibly manage to sink in before then.

I'm really worried about L. We have been broaching the subject with her (but we don't plan to tell her until after I see the obstetrician in a couple of weeks), and the response has been really negative. She doesn't want to be a big sister. She doesn't want a baby around. She thinks my claims that there will be lots more love and lots more fun in the family are total BS. "There would be stinky diapers, Mama," she said, "and babies cry ALL THE TIME. It would be a hundred years before he'd be big enough to play with. No thank you."

Am I overreacting to worry that this could traumatize her? That this could ruin our relationship with her forever? I am on a bit of an emotional and hormonal roller coaster right now so I honestly don't know if my fears are realistic.

In other news, my bestie and I are writing a children's book together. We are going to win a Caldecott Medal. At least. Make sure you order your copy autographed.