minalisms


    Posts Tagged ‘parenting’

    Riverdancing on the bladder

    Thursday, March 4th, 2010

    My son is an athlete. On second thought — knowing my longtime love of dancing and Ben’s penchant for randomly awesome bouts of river dance — my son is probably a dancer.

    Because that is all he’s been doing for the past two weeks: Dancing in my belly, above my bladder.

    If ever there was a time for Depends, the incontinence accessory, now would be it. Not because I leak from Baby’s sudden kicks and stomps, but because I’m just tired of feeling as though I must pee every half-minute.

    Friends tell me it’s only going to get worse — which, thank you, friends, but common sense could’ve helped me figure that one out on my own. By the way, Baby has doubled in size from three weeks ago.

    So when you meet him, ask him to do a little jig for you. From what I can tell, he’s quite good.

    Cramming

    Friday, February 19th, 2010

    Even though there is little, if any, evidence of baby preparation around my house, I’ve been working every day on preparing mentally for July 12 (aka Due Date) and thereafter.

    I make to-do lists. I read my pregnancy book. I pore over ratings on cribs, car seats and carriers. I think constantly about my diet and worry about nourishing the little man inside, wonder whether he’ll latch on to my boob when the time comes and if I’ll have the time and energy to make most of his baby food from scratch.

    My network of moms and dads have told me that one can never truly prepare for the arrival of a child. “You just learn as you go,” they say. And that makes sense, but, good God, that means I have to pay close attention. At all times. Even when I’m bored, or unmotivated, or sleep-deprived and crabby.

    Which brings me to the following conclusion: This kid — he’s going to be one charismatic dude, even more so than his father, who from Day 1 re-ignited my creativity, perseverance and optimism for a happy ending.

    New year, new role

    Thursday, February 18th, 2010

    For those who haven’t heard the news yet: I’m pregnant. If all goes as planned, my baby boy will be born in mid-July, which puts me at right about the midpoint of my pregnancy.

    I’ve been nudged by several friends and relatives throughout the past few months to blog about this news. But one of the reasons I haven’t is that it’s not simple describing what I classify as indescribable. How can you define something that’s so many things, often different things, to so many people? Like love.

    Ben and I haven’t made any noticeable preparations for Baby yet. I’m still putting off all purchases of maternity clothes, and the soon-to-be nursery is still an office without order. Four-and-a-half months until labor pains and I already feel like a bad parent. I think I’m catching on.

    There are reminders throughout the day: I am going to be a mom. Ben is going to be a dad. We are going to be responsible for the life of a tiny human being.

    And that’s when I fall back to square one, where no words justify the emotion behind those statements.

    Sweet 16

    Thursday, July 16th, 2009

    It may not seem like much to you, but the 16th of each month is a momentous day.

    It is the one day that I am sure to hear from my mom, who sends me a sweet, celebratory note commemorating the birth of her daughter — Minal — and the arrival of a son — Ben.

    See. Momentous.

    Godparenting

    Tuesday, May 20th, 2008

    I’ve received some fine compliments and awards and scholarships in my life. They’ve all reminded me that I’m a pretty fetching package, built with threads of brain and beams of beauty.

    But it wasn’t until this year, specifically these past two months, that I was awarded the most flattering compliment of all: the title of godparent — times two.

    The moniker was bestowed upon Ben and me sans religious overtones. Yet the weight of the duty remains. In fact, due to the seriousness of the responsibility, my immediate, latent reaction when presented with the question was to cry over the thought of tragedy striking, then zip through a billion questions and “what if” scenarios until both parents reconsidered the wisdom of designating a paranoid as a caretaker of their baby.

    The hidden reaction is not a joke. Instead, it’s indicative of my wholehearted determination to succeed in my new role. 

    But my actual reaction — also not a joke — was of delighted, gracious acceptance. 

    So, like in past instances where I expressed gratitude for an award or praise or prize, I must say thanks.

    Thank you, Rich and Marilyn, Dana and Shedrick, for the highest honor any parent can give to somebody. Your kids will always be cared for. 

    minalisms.com designed by Solvm validate xhtml // css // wordpress // (mt)