Experimenting With Language

Scenario

Miss A is in the bathroom doin' her business. She has difficulty keeping the volume of her voice below 110 decibels, especially while her sister is sleeping. I foolishly leave her in the bathroom to wash her hands and she proceeds to talk to herself in a ridiculously loud voice. I rush to the bathroom and politely remind her to keep it down. She whispers "You're stupid." To which I am visibly horrified and say "Excuse me?" to which she replies "You're great." We have a discussion about how telling someone they are stupid is not acceptable and she tells me "You're wonderful."

Yeah. Right. I got it.

Countdown

Well, it's a little more than a month until this baby is due. Wow. I really can't believe it. I keep trying to imagine what it will be like having two. Of course, that's all I can do. Imagine. That's what I did before we had A. And what I imagined? It wasn't even close. It was so much harder than I'd thought it would be. I think I have adjusted my thinking this time and I may be closer to knowing what it will be like... but still I'm sure it will be so much more challenging than I'm imagining this time as well.



Daily things are getting progressively more difficult. I keep looking at my flower beds wishing I could spend time in them to make them look pretty. I keep reminding myself that this is only for a short while longer (and the last time). Miss A is going through a really frustrating stage right now where she totally flakes out sometimes and refuses to walk, insisting that I carry her. For anyone who might say "Just make her walk!" I say to you "Ha! YOU make her walk." If I waited for her to decide to walk I would seriously be there ALL DAY. And the whole walk away saying "See you later." doesn't work either. She's very likely to bolt and with the combination of this belly and stiff ankle - I would NEVER catch her. She'd be gone. So what do I do? I carry her. I keep picturing my water breaking as I'm lifting her up. Wouldn't that be lovely.

There are a lot of things I still want to do before the baby arrives. Yet, it seems so much more low key than the last time. There was no getting a room ready. No buying furniture. (Well, we're getting a fancy rocking chair but no baby furniture.) Mostly what I need to do is find the baby stuff and get it washed as well. And empty out a dresser from downstairs so we can bring it up and fill it up with baby clothes. That's it.

Still, I'm procrastinating. I'm sure I'd be more motivated if I was finished work. But I'm not. I'll be working until the end of the month. And working hard. Because all of my lovely clients (and I do mean that) are desperate to get in for that final appointment before I go. And I want to see them too. I'll also be doing some graduation hair.

So. I'm tired. I'm stressed. I'm nervous. But you know, I'm here.

Different

Yesterday we went to have some pictures taken. Maternity photos. You know the ones I mean. They are sweet, artsy photos of the belly and it's family. We did them when I was pregnant with Miss A and they are quite lovely. The end result a three picture collage hangs in her bedroom.

This time it was decidedly more... difficult. I had visions of how wonderful it would be to have photos of the three of us and the belly. I was kicking myself afterwards for not preparing myself for what actually did happen. Because, after all, I know my child. It wasn't that long ago that we had this experience.

So yeah, Miss A was SO not interested in getting her picture taken despite every persuasion we could think of including putting stickers on the 'baby'. We managed to get two (TWO!) shots with her in them. And who knows if they'll be any good. We also took some with just Peter and I because, well, at least we were cooperating.

I'm sure they will be fine but I couldn't help being a bit disappointed. I hate it when situations arise and I find myself wishing that A could just be - different. (Like maybe, not climbing all over the photography props instead of posing with us for a few photos for pete's sake!!!) If only I could have just had Lynanne come over to take a few shots. I'm sure she would have been able to work miracles!

And then later when we were curled up on the couch together I felt guilty for ever wishing she was different. She wouldn't be her if she just posed nicely for the pictures. She'd be a totally different kid. And I love her, spunk and all.