Early in November of 2007 I finally, for sure, felt the baby moving. Here's what I'd written later that night:
When I told Tom tonight, he put his hands on my stomach and waited, like the baby would know he was there and just go crazy all over him. When that didn't happen, he leaned over, kissed my belly and said, "You can kick me. I'm right here." God I love him.
That November was pretty eventful. Tom and I celebrated our second wedding anniversary with a short weekender to Julian. A few days before we left, Corey went to the corner store and bought us a gift of... organic cotton balls. Why, you wonder? Don't think we got it right away, either! Turns out he'd read that cotton is the appropriate gift for a second wedding anniversary. We still have the bag, mostly unopened (Mad got hold of it, so... you know).
Of course we celebrated Thanksgiving, too. Here's something else I wrote at the time:
We had an awesome Thanksgiving. I was really dreading the drive up to Hesperia this year, as last year's was so horrible that I didn't ever want to do it again. Tom finally convinced me to give it a try one more time about a week ago (that's right... even just over a week ago I was still upset about it... it was that bad). He convinced me because, A) We always have a great time with the family and B) He likes hanging out with them. When he said that, I thought back to what my life was like when I was married and pregnant before...
Well, for starters, by this point in the pregnancy, I knew that the marriage was over. Second, my ex-husband didn't like or love his own family, let alone have great feelings about mine. And third, right after Corey was born, surrounded by my grandparents and mom (oh, and the now ex-husband), the ex got jealous and said that my family had had Corey long enough and that his family hadn't... ugh! What a freaking moron... and I mean me, since nobody made me be with or marry that jerk.
Continuing with our Thanksgiving theme, here's something else I'd completely forgotten:
I just wanted to say that whoever thought it was a good idea to schedule a prenatal appointment on the Monday after Thanksgiving must have been a complete fricken idiot! Didn't that person realize that I'll have to be weighed?!?
That appointment was the first time Corey ever heard the baby's heartbeat. It didn't make him all gushy or lovey. He thought it was weird, like a space alien, and kind of gross.
Exactly a month after I felt the baby move, here's what I journaled:
Tom has been living in that after-stress zone where, when he comes home from work, he pretty much stays awake for dinner (most of the time) and then falls asleep on the couch. So while I've been pretty sure that he could feel the baby if only his hands were on my stomach instead of his own, it hadn't happened.
Prior to this week, whenever he put his hands on my stomach, the baby would actually kick wherever he put his hands, and I would smile and look at him.
Nothing.
It got to the point where he seemed to feel bad that he wasn't feeling it... like he was a failure or already a bad father or something.
Yesterday morning I was sitting on the couch and he was in the chair. I told him his baby was moving around a lot and he should come try again. He did, and the baby was kicking up a storm. Of course, Tom didn't feel any of it because I was wearing flannel PJ bottoms and two shirts, so I pulled up the shirts and he stuck his hands down my pants (don't get all pervy on me... these aren't maternity bottoms, so they are either all the way up or all the way down).
Just then his brother called, so he answered with one hand and started chatting away. The baby gave some fairly light taps right under his hand and Tom stopped the conversation with Matt. He asked, "Those little taps... was that it?... was that the baby?"
Yep!
So we laughed and shared the moment with Matt, which was kind of cool, but it would have been better if all three of us could have been in on it together, instead of just him talking to Matt or to me. But he's finally felt his baby move, and that's more important than anything.
Showing posts with label anniversary. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anniversary. Show all posts
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Home Is the New Away
Wednesday will be our third wedding anniversary. Being married just three years seems odd somehow. Maybe it's that we've been together well over eight years. So this year I will again say we've been married X years + five and a half.
For our previous wedding anniversaries (I point out wedding because there is also the first time we acknowledged we liked one another even though it was so impossible, because he lived in Chicago and I lived in LA; the first time we said I Love You, something we'd been feeling for a couple of months, but were waiting to admit to because... *ahem*... we hadn't met in person just yet; and the first time we met in person. Okay, we don't really celebrate the others so much anymore, but we used to, and I still keep things separate in my mind.), we have spent the weekend in Big Bear or in Julian. This year there is a budget crisis in our home.
Not only is Mad the proverbial "like a weed" daughter (hello! I'm hoping the size 12 months clothes we bought for winter are going to fit long enough for the weather to stay below 90 for more than two days in a row), but this is the year of our biennial Christmas trip to Chicago. Oh, and the company Tom works for (which shall remain nameless because I sense a rant coming sooner or later) is doing what it can to stay afloat. That means that he generally works four or five eight-hour days instead of five 10-11 hour days each week.
We have a "free" trip to San Francisco (airfare and hotel included) that we had planned to use this coming week, but the $80 processing fee and the fact that he'd be using up days off that we'll need for Christmas means that we had to come up with an alternate celebration.
In all honesty, I spent most of Saturday morning mentally moping. I didn't even bother to call my parents to see if they'd watch Mad until just before noon. Lots of internal scolding, cajoling and name-calling helped me get my act back together well enough to get going. We didn't have much of a plan before the kids were dropped off at their preferred grandparents' houses. I wasn't sure how late we could leave Mad with Margaret and my dad. We went for an early start time so we could get back early, too. Based on recent history (recent being since I got pregnant with my perpetually tardy husband's child), I am stunned to announce that everybody, including me, was ready to go, kids were dropped off and we were free to do what we wanted at 4:03 PM.
Neither of us had eaten much and Tom was starving, so he suggested an early dinner. I laughed and pointed out that we should go to Lenny's for the early bird special. Seriously. And to underscore how early we were seeking dinner, the Indian restaurant we'd chosen wouldn't be open for another hour.
**On a side note, I would have chosen something more than two blocks from my mom's place, but we are pretty well surrounded by fires and freeways are not all open right now, so it made more sense to stick close.
We talked about a few more options and decided to go to our old standby, Casa Sanchez. Sure, it's a little unfancy place in a strip mall. Not everyone would think to go there to celebrate getting married, but it was the first bona fide happy choice of the night for me. Why? Aside from the fact that the owners and staff are friends, this is the restaurant that catered our wedding. Between us, we had all the wedding night food. It was delicious. I can't remember the flavor of anything at the wedding because I couldn't get more than a couple of bites down, I was so excited. So we relived it that afternoon.
Yes, afternoon. It was still well within the four o'clock hour when we arrived. No, most of the people there weren't blue-hairs, but the couple coming out when we went in were rather old. And she was on oxygen. That's how close we were to being old fuddy-duddies (maybe the fact that I'm using that term means it's too late).
Dinner was great. We hadn't set any "let's not talk about the kids" rules. In fact, we talked about the kids we have and the fact that Tom would like to have one more. I'm telling you, he could probably talk me into anything. Oh alright, he already has, but not for now. Mad was our summer vacation surprise last year. The timing worked out perfectly in terms of time off after she was born, so that's our plan for next year. I'm a little excited about it. Like, I've already picked out a name excited, haha. But I'm only telling you, dear readers, because I don't want to have to answer questions from everybody I know for the next eight months. Plus, if it doesn't work out for some reason, I won't have to explain it over and over again.
Anyway, we decided to go see a movie after that. The plan was to find a light romantic comedy (Tom's suggestion because he knows his girl and because he was probably trying to set the mood, bow-chicka-bow-bow). We drove to a theater to see our options: nothing! So we headed over to a small independent theater. It's outside of "the village," a charming little place that is growing a bit too much. Tom's friend has called it too Disney-fied. The village is not, but the theater and surrounding shops do look a bit like a set. Most of the movies were either not for us this night (Bond, Madagascar 2) or we'd never heard of them. The one I recognized and knew I'd been interested in seeing was Rachel Getting Married.
Did I stop to recall what it was about? Did I pause to think about the review I'd read recently in which the word "disturbing" was used? No, I did not. So we bought tickets for a showing that started in an hour and went for a walk. We had ice cream and Tom answered sports questions from roughly a dozen kids who were apparently on a scavenger hunt type activity. They came to us while we sat outside Coldstone after going inside and singing Take Me Out to the Ballgame with the server inside.
The movie was good, but it was not light, romantic nor comedic. It was intense. I was tense. So tense, in fact, that I wanted to yell at any number of the characters or get up and leave, maybe slamming a door on the way out. Whew! And the music was mostly great, but there were huge stretches where it seemed like the makers of this movie just wanted to showcase their varied tastes.
After it was over, we needed to get Mad and go home. When we'd dropped her off, Margaret had offered to keep her overnight, but it seemed inappropriate to take her up on that at the last minute, like I was hoping she'd offer because I didn't have the nerve to ask.
I nursed Mad as soon as we were home and then Tom put her to bed. In the penultimate alternative anniversary celebration finale, I fell asleep on the couch while he took care of her. I'm pretty sure he tried to get me to come to bed, but I did not. It wasn't meant to be a withholding sex type of thing, just an exhausted woman thing. Thankfully, Tom doesn't tend to hold grudges and we were eventually able to enjoy the best part of our weekend during Mad's afternoon nap today. Corey didn't come home from Grammy's until after 9:00 tonight and that, too, felt a little like time away.
So even though I taught two classes Friday night and one Saturday morning, for the first time in a couple of months, I felt like the weekend was all that it should have been. I almost don't mind getting up and going to work tomorrow. I love my job, but Tom will be off, so I'd like to be here, too.
For our previous wedding anniversaries (I point out wedding because there is also the first time we acknowledged we liked one another even though it was so impossible, because he lived in Chicago and I lived in LA; the first time we said I Love You, something we'd been feeling for a couple of months, but were waiting to admit to because... *ahem*... we hadn't met in person just yet; and the first time we met in person. Okay, we don't really celebrate the others so much anymore, but we used to, and I still keep things separate in my mind.), we have spent the weekend in Big Bear or in Julian. This year there is a budget crisis in our home.
Not only is Mad the proverbial "like a weed" daughter (hello! I'm hoping the size 12 months clothes we bought for winter are going to fit long enough for the weather to stay below 90 for more than two days in a row), but this is the year of our biennial Christmas trip to Chicago. Oh, and the company Tom works for (which shall remain nameless because I sense a rant coming sooner or later) is doing what it can to stay afloat. That means that he generally works four or five eight-hour days instead of five 10-11 hour days each week.
We have a "free" trip to San Francisco (airfare and hotel included) that we had planned to use this coming week, but the $80 processing fee and the fact that he'd be using up days off that we'll need for Christmas means that we had to come up with an alternate celebration.
In all honesty, I spent most of Saturday morning mentally moping. I didn't even bother to call my parents to see if they'd watch Mad until just before noon. Lots of internal scolding, cajoling and name-calling helped me get my act back together well enough to get going. We didn't have much of a plan before the kids were dropped off at their preferred grandparents' houses. I wasn't sure how late we could leave Mad with Margaret and my dad. We went for an early start time so we could get back early, too. Based on recent history (recent being since I got pregnant with my perpetually tardy husband's child), I am stunned to announce that everybody, including me, was ready to go, kids were dropped off and we were free to do what we wanted at 4:03 PM.
Neither of us had eaten much and Tom was starving, so he suggested an early dinner. I laughed and pointed out that we should go to Lenny's for the early bird special. Seriously. And to underscore how early we were seeking dinner, the Indian restaurant we'd chosen wouldn't be open for another hour.
**On a side note, I would have chosen something more than two blocks from my mom's place, but we are pretty well surrounded by fires and freeways are not all open right now, so it made more sense to stick close.
We talked about a few more options and decided to go to our old standby, Casa Sanchez. Sure, it's a little unfancy place in a strip mall. Not everyone would think to go there to celebrate getting married, but it was the first bona fide happy choice of the night for me. Why? Aside from the fact that the owners and staff are friends, this is the restaurant that catered our wedding. Between us, we had all the wedding night food. It was delicious. I can't remember the flavor of anything at the wedding because I couldn't get more than a couple of bites down, I was so excited. So we relived it that afternoon.
Yes, afternoon. It was still well within the four o'clock hour when we arrived. No, most of the people there weren't blue-hairs, but the couple coming out when we went in were rather old. And she was on oxygen. That's how close we were to being old fuddy-duddies (maybe the fact that I'm using that term means it's too late).
Dinner was great. We hadn't set any "let's not talk about the kids" rules. In fact, we talked about the kids we have and the fact that Tom would like to have one more. I'm telling you, he could probably talk me into anything. Oh alright, he already has, but not for now. Mad was our summer vacation surprise last year. The timing worked out perfectly in terms of time off after she was born, so that's our plan for next year. I'm a little excited about it. Like, I've already picked out a name excited, haha. But I'm only telling you, dear readers, because I don't want to have to answer questions from everybody I know for the next eight months. Plus, if it doesn't work out for some reason, I won't have to explain it over and over again.
Anyway, we decided to go see a movie after that. The plan was to find a light romantic comedy (Tom's suggestion because he knows his girl and because he was probably trying to set the mood, bow-chicka-bow-bow). We drove to a theater to see our options: nothing! So we headed over to a small independent theater. It's outside of "the village," a charming little place that is growing a bit too much. Tom's friend has called it too Disney-fied. The village is not, but the theater and surrounding shops do look a bit like a set. Most of the movies were either not for us this night (Bond, Madagascar 2) or we'd never heard of them. The one I recognized and knew I'd been interested in seeing was Rachel Getting Married.
Did I stop to recall what it was about? Did I pause to think about the review I'd read recently in which the word "disturbing" was used? No, I did not. So we bought tickets for a showing that started in an hour and went for a walk. We had ice cream and Tom answered sports questions from roughly a dozen kids who were apparently on a scavenger hunt type activity. They came to us while we sat outside Coldstone after going inside and singing Take Me Out to the Ballgame with the server inside.
The movie was good, but it was not light, romantic nor comedic. It was intense. I was tense. So tense, in fact, that I wanted to yell at any number of the characters or get up and leave, maybe slamming a door on the way out. Whew! And the music was mostly great, but there were huge stretches where it seemed like the makers of this movie just wanted to showcase their varied tastes.
After it was over, we needed to get Mad and go home. When we'd dropped her off, Margaret had offered to keep her overnight, but it seemed inappropriate to take her up on that at the last minute, like I was hoping she'd offer because I didn't have the nerve to ask.
I nursed Mad as soon as we were home and then Tom put her to bed. In the penultimate alternative anniversary celebration finale, I fell asleep on the couch while he took care of her. I'm pretty sure he tried to get me to come to bed, but I did not. It wasn't meant to be a withholding sex type of thing, just an exhausted woman thing. Thankfully, Tom doesn't tend to hold grudges and we were eventually able to enjoy the best part of our weekend during Mad's afternoon nap today. Corey didn't come home from Grammy's until after 9:00 tonight and that, too, felt a little like time away.
So even though I taught two classes Friday night and one Saturday morning, for the first time in a couple of months, I felt like the weekend was all that it should have been. I almost don't mind getting up and going to work tomorrow. I love my job, but Tom will be off, so I'd like to be here, too.
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