The doctors said they would induce Rosie on Monday, but they apparently forgot that Monday is a holiday. Thus, if she hasn’t started labor on her own by tomorrow at 7 p.m., they will induce.
So – the baby is coming! The baby is coming!
Crossing my fingers that all goes as smoothly and safely as possible for Rosie and the baby.
When I met DTE he already had 4 kids. In fact, the second time I ever saw him he was with three of them, and I loved the way he interacted with them. His oldest daughter and son are 5 and 6 years younger than me, respectively. The younger two were 6 and 3 when I met them.
The youngest two were with us the requisite every other weekend and for weeks or more in the summer and other vacation times. When we got married, they asked if they could call me mom.
I told them no. It felt wrong to me, on several levels. They had known me for at least six years by this point, and it seemed weird to all of a sudden call me “mom” because of a wedding. For me, the wedding was something I did for my parents, and didn’t make our relationship any more “real” or legitimate – so why would they just then call me mom?
I also didn’t want to be in anyway like their mother. That seems pretty childish to me now, but at the time I didn’t have a strong enough sense of myself. I felt that them calling me mom made me somehow like her, and that was appalling to me.
The third reason was that immediately after our wedding, I got pregnant. This sounds so mean and trite and selfish – but I wanted to be “mom” to my baby, and my baby alone. I wanted to revel in that word, in that role, for and with my baby, and not someone else’s kids.
Years passed. Ups and downs, my babies grew into kids, and the other “younger” kids are now adults (21 and 24!) Rosie, the 24 year old, has grown into a beautiful, self aware young woman whom I absolutely adore. She has done so much emotional work, and growing, and has reached out to both of us and brought us back into her life in a wonderful way. When I look at how immature I was it touches me all the more that she would treat me so well now. I pushed her away, and she asked me back anyway.
She is pregnant, and the baby was due two days ago. We know she is having a girl. We have seen Rosie many times throughout her pregnancy and we are SO fricking excited! We email, we call, every day I come home and say “Did Rosie call?!”
So here’s my dilemma: What will “my new baby” call me? Technically, I am the step grandma. But come ON. I don’t FEEL like a grandma (and I don’t want to hear all that “this is what a grandma looks like” shit. I am only 41. The baby will already have one grandma on her mom’s side, and on her dad’s side she will have one grandma, two great grandmas, and one great-great grandma. I think that is enough! “Nana” is also sounds too old for me. I suggested “Goddess” to a friend, and she delicately suggested that that might be a bit to ostentatious. She may have a point.
So, multitude of internet readers, what should she call me? I am nuts about this baby already; she has a really Irish name, she will be adorable, and I want to be someone special in her life. Meemaw? No, sounds like hee haw. Granny? No way. Grandma Maggie? Hell no. I know she could just call me “Maggie” like the other “step granddaughter” does (another amazingly special, cool little girl)…but I really want her to have a special name for me. What shall it be? I will give an award to the person who comes up with the coolest name. It will be a super cool award, like the super cool Non-step-grandma I will be.
I sent an email to my best friend:
“Will you love me in spite of my mistakes?”
And she wrote back:
“What mistakes?”
That is why she is my best friend.
1. I love wine.
2. Krispy Kremes, while spelled incorrectly, are better than sex.
3. My dad is great.
4. My friends are great.
5. Wine is wonderful.
Remember all those reasons I said I didn’t want to get the job? Please remind me of them now.
For all you typepad users out there… what am I missing? Where the hell is there a spellcheck function?!
Yesterday we did our marathon bike ride without GMan. He is 12, and we feel ok leaving him alone for blocks of time. He knows the safety rules, I carry my cell phone, etc. Many times he doesn’t come with us on outings, and I usually don’t make him because he makes things unpleasant for all of us if it’s something he really doesn’t want to do. However, I started worrying that maybe he thinks that we don’t want him to come because I never insist. (Is that a stupid worry on my part?)
So, yesterday I made sure to tell him how much I thought he’d enjoy the bike ride (even though I knew he wouldn’t; he really doesn’t like bike riding) and I emphasized how much we enjoyed his company and would love to have him along.
Last night I decided to take him to a movie, just the two of us, so he could enjoy some individual time and attention. I chatted with him, or rather, AT him, on the way there. He usually sits with his body turned toward the window, and gives one word answers. “Are you in a bad mood?” “NOPE” “Are you in a good mood?” “NOPE.” “Are you being mean to me?” “NOPE.” “Are you being nice to me?” “NOPE.” But that last one did bring a smile and a chuckle.
We did then have a normal conversation about what we order from the concession bar.
On the way home, he was full of chatter, filling me in on every detail of the South Park movie he had watched earlier on TIVO. (I know, South Park is way, way too adult for him to watch. But he has been watching it and now what can I do? I think as long as he tells me about it, and I always make sure to throw in my pc comments so he knows how I feel….. well, justification, but what else do I do at this point? Seriously?)
Last night I had a dream. I was with him, and he had this dog toy full of dog food that he needed to throw at this kid. This kid is someone with whom GMan was friends in 2 -3- 4th grade; now this kid is a big jock and they are not friends at all. Anyway, the dream was spent with me following GMan around, trying to find this kid, who was a bully, so we could throw this thing at him. I kept asking why GMan needed to resort to violence, why couldn’t he just ignore the kid? GMan said he was sick of feeling humiliated by the kid, and HAD to do something to prove he wouldn’t let the kid keep getting away with it.
Later in the dream, I was at GMan’s school, listening to a teacher tell me about GMan, and how the kid treated GMan, and how GMan reacted. She was very worried about GMan, about his spirits, etc. I left the classroom and kept trying to reach the counselor’s office, or the principal’s office, and I couldn’t get there. I could see them sitting in their offices, and I kept trying and kept trying, but just couldn’t get to them.
I woke up feeling scared and worried. This dream represents some awful things – GMan resorting to violence because he feels so humiliated and alone; me not doing enough to talk to the right people.
I think much of this is projection. I think ultimately, GMan is a preteen, and he has always been happy being alone. Even as a one and two year old, he would happily play in his room without needing the constant (or even infrequent) interaction from others. I worry that he feels embarrassed because he is not athletic AT ALL, (and we are in a small school district that highly focuses on athletics, as well as high academic achievement.) I always worry if kids don’t like him, or that kids might think he’s a dork (or whatever the current name is.)
I know I’ve written about this before, but it is one of my constant, underlying worries. Am I projecting? Is he really ok? Should I do more? Less? Something different? Will he be ok once he’s out of middle and high school, and into a world where there is room for all different types of people? What can I do to make these next six years as ok as possible for him?
Sometimes I wonder if I should be worried. She wants to be a mommy and a teacher when she grows up. Although now her favorite thing to watch on tv (good riddance SpongeBob!) is the Discovery Health channel’s many shows on multiple births, families with multiples, etc. She spent over an hour on ebay today looking up strollers for triplets and quads. She says she wants to be a “baby doctor” now (not sure if she means ob/gyn or pediatrician) but god – the girl is kind of strange!
First, Kudos to the incomparable Monique for providing the soundtrack to today’s adventures. I love the cd!
Today we went on a bike ride downtown to see all the Tom Otterness sculptures. We all plugged in our iPods and off we went.
One of the first ones we saw was Gulliver:
Here are a few more:
(OK, That one wasn’t Otterness, it is the big Alexander Calder sculpture that is the symbol of the city. There was an Otterness just behind it though.)
Click on this one to see “Baby Rachel” helping Lucy push the penny into her bike basket:
It was a perfect afternoon. Grey, a bit windy, but still warm enough to enjoy the ride. I figure we rode over ten miles. Not only were we enjoying finding the sculptures, but seriously, this was the first time I had seen many of these places downtown. I’ve lived here 11 years now, and it is only now, as I’m contemplating leaving, that I saw what a neat town it is. (I’m talking about the actual town, not the overly conservative stick up their ass people who live here.) I rode around town enjoying the scenery, listening to the “hang in there” cd my wonderful friend made me, and thinking “Wow, am I leaving? Am I staying? Does it matter?” And I just enjoyed the moments, because I am making it.
Every day at work I print out my schedule, and highlight the pertinent info. I choose which color highlighter to use based on my outfit. Everything must compliment – shoes, purse, highlighter. Dork.
