Middle Ground

My writing wheels are a little squeaky so it is time that I grease them up again. My WD40 is this blog and I'm determined to get it going again. With a new baby, a 3-year-old and a 6-year-old, I have ample material.

When my first daughter, Tatum, was born, my son (2.5 years old at the time) was obsessed with her. He was practically glued to her side and used every opportunity to touch her and caress her. His favorite, and most bizarre, activity is one I'll never forget. He would grab her teeny tiny hand, place it in his palm and rub it back and forth against his cheek saying, "Oh Tatum. Oh Tatum." It was his way of expressing both his undying affection for her and his resentment of her sudden presence in his life at the same time. It was sweet the first five times he did it. After that it was just annoying. If I were a videotaping Mom (I'm not), I'd have one of these episodes on tape. They were pretty humorous.

I wasn't sure how my older two kids would react to the baby, especially Tatum. She's a bit of a wild card. She's fiercely independent, one of the most resilient children I've ever come across, and she has a less-than-stellar reputation when it comes to babies. She has no tolerance for any children that are younger than her, particularly babies. One of her friends has a two-year-old sister and Tatum refuses to acknowledge her existence. This little girl adores Tatum and wants nothing more than for Tatum to play with her but she refuses. She snubs her with all of the determination of a stuck up high school cheerleader. I asked her on several occasions if she liked babies and always got the same response, "No. I don't like them but I'll like our baby." I worried.

As it turns out, both of the kids have been pretty cool about Harper's sudden presence in their lives. They feel less jilted because they have each other to lean on and I had the foresight to prepare them for the baby by exposing them to good ol' fashion neglect in the final weeks of my pregnancy. Both kids have an interest in Harper and they cannot wait for her to smile and respond to them but they don't hover or smother her. There have been a few behavioral issues but nothing worthy of concern and they have been easy to remedy. I'm grateful to have found a middle ground with two very different kids and that my son doesn't smother the new baby and my daughter doesn't snub her completely. Here's a picture of the three of them sitting harmoniously on the couch. Harper is the little one in the middle, being forced to wave to the camera.

Special thanks to Melinda at Nicodemus Photography for taking this shot and many more. She does great work. Take a look at her portfolio at: http://nicodemusphotos.blogspot.com/

Harper Emerson Hale

This is long overdue but I’m finally getting a chance to
write again. Harper Emerson Hale arrived, like all of my other children, off
schedule on March 5 at 8:13pm. She weighed 6 pounds 4 ounces and came into this
world with a healthy scream. To make a very long story short, I had
hypertension and had to deliver early. The hypertension continued post partum
and I had the pleasure of a magnesium drip for 24 hours post-op. Things are
better now. My BP is under control thanks to some medication and I’ve spent the
last 2.5 weeks with a great deal of help from my family and friends. Thank you
Mom, Dad, Papa Dale and Grandma Mary and all of my friends who brought and
continue to bring meals. What a great help you’ve all been!

Here’s a little snapshot of Harper Emerson:

 

Alice in Chains

I'm feeling a little sorry for myself of late. What, with the digestive system that is all but ceased to work and the WIDE LOAD sign that is permanently adhered to my backside. Not to mention the sheer spectacle I must be getting out of bed in the middle of the night (which is something that happens quite often). The only thing I can compare it to is a morbidly obese woman trying to squeeze herself into an extra small wetsuit. Every time I find myself maneuvering from my side, surrounded by pillows, to my hands and knees, backing off of the bed, I hear Claree Belcher from Steel Magnolias in my head saying, "It looks like two pigs, fightin' under a blanket." It's a real confidence booster.

I was humbled today by an unsettling sight at my perinatalogist appointment. I was sitting in the waiting room, surrounded by high risk pregnant women, playing with my phone when I heard chains rattling and the door to the examination area open. Out waddled a very-pregnant, cute woman in her late twenties. She looked like someone I might have lunch with except for one minor detail. She was wearing a blue jumpsuit with numbers on the back and had chains around her waist that were attached to handcuffs as well as chains bound around her ankles. Oh, and she had a uniformed, armed police officer guiding her by the arm. So, for the next two weeks, when I get the urge to complain about my stagnant digestive system or my soar lower back, I will think of Alice (that's the name I've given her). She has to eat prison food and walk with chains. She doesn't have the luxury of sending her husband out at 9:45pm to get her a bag of Cadbury chocolate mini eggs and she has to maneuver her ample arse out of a cot to pee on a stainless steel toilet in the middle of the night (I realize this may not be entirely accurate but humor me. I get all of my prison info from Oz). Somehow seeing Alice with my own two eyes made the whole situation clear to me. Sure, I know about those Vietnamese women who give birth standing up in a rice field and go right back to working. We ALL know about those women but they don't resonate with us because we can't see them. Alice, she resonated. She made a lasting impression. I guess I've got it pretty damn good.

It's a Bird. It's a Plane. It's OCTOMOM!

I know I might be a little obsessed but I can't help myself. Let's just blame it on my hormones. It's a blanket justification for anything I do. I might as well take advantage of it while I can. Check out this video . A non-profit has offered Octomom (this name kills me by the way) some incredibly generous help that would truly assist her children without delving into taxpayer money. They offered this a week ago and she has yet to respond. What gives? Is she nuts? Do I really need to ask that question?

And, she's looking at houses in the 1 million dollar plus range. Are you kidding me? I grit my teeth as I write this and I want nothing more than to meet her on the street and shake her until the collagen drains out of her lips. I have other fantasies that involve superfly ninja moves but I'll keep those to myself. Thoughts?

So Many Details…

20 days and counting until the next Hale child makes her arrival into this world. Hard to believe. Right now my hope is that I make it to the scheduled date (March 11) so that I can avoid labor altogether. My daughter was not cooperative. She arrived a little over a week before my scheduled C-section and I was not prepared for labor. It really sucked. I'm hoping for a highly sterile, pain-free delivery. They'll be no doula, no midwife, no spiritual experience, no breathing exercises. I'm over that nonsense. We high-riskers don't have any birthing options and I choose to embrace my fate. Give me an OR and a gurney any day over a baby pool in my living room with Cat Stevens playing in the background. Puh-lease.

In the meantime, here's a little blogworthy randomness:

• For those of you unaware, Nadya Suleman, the mother of those now-infamous octuplets, has started a fund-raising website. In case you were wondering, yes, all major credit cards are accepted.
  
• I've decided my favorite part of pregnancy is the fact that there is absolutely no need to suck in my gut at any time, ever. It's a glorious thing, really. I'm going to miss that the most. Well, that and the kicks. I do enjoy the kicks when they aren't too intense.
  
• The Oscars are coming up this weekend and I have seen nary a nominated movie. There was a time in my life when I would have seen them all. That time has passed. It makes me a little sad. I'm rooting for Mickey Rourke. I want to see him thank his dog again.
  
• My daughter has to go to school dressed up as a character from a Mother Goose nursery rhyme next week. Any ideas? I'm at a loss and I refuse to spend any money.
  

British Invasion

I was doing my best to get some editing work done this evening while I waited for dinner to cook so, being the fantastic mother that I am, I sat my kids down in front of the TV, turned it to PBS and went to park my arse in front of the computer. About 20 minutes later, I kept hearing uproarious laughter coming from my son and a few giggles from my daughter. Excellent, I thought, PBS must really know what kids like. A couple minutes later my son ran into the kitchen (where my desktop is) and said, "Mommy. You have got to see this hilarious movie we are watching." I went in to find my kids mesmerized by Are You Being Served?

I guess we've got a backup show when the cartoons run out. I wonder when the appropriate time to introduce, Keeping Up Appearances to the kiddos is.

Not Your Run-of-the-Mill-Recliner

My Grandmother has one of those chairs that looks like a normal, average, everyday recliner but in fact is so much more. With just the push of a button, it rises slowly and places her in an upright, standing position. My kids think it is the coolest thing ever. When we visit, they are constantly asking her for "rides." She is usually happy to oblige. I need one of those chairs right about now. That and a Craft-matic Adjustable bed and I'll be set for the next four weeks.

The baby is set to arrive on March 11. I'm going to try to keep up the blog a little better for the next few weeks.