Which Side Are You On?

When I was expecting Corey, my mom offered to throw a shower.  True to her ways, she then laid out stipulations like, it had to be some place near her (about 90 minutes from me... but she was closer to most of my friends) and in the middle of June (due July 4).  Neither of those was too demanding, so I acquiesced.  Then, even more true to my mother, as the date approached (*cough* and she hadn't made any preparations or sent out invitations *coughcough*) she added one more.  "Oh, and I'll need to have your doctor approve your driving up here.  In writing."


Doc didn't approve it and Mom was off the hook.  One of my best friends came down to Ocean Beach (San Diego) and threw a party for me.  Mom didn't make it for whatever reason.  Neither did most of my closer-to-LA friends.  So Laura rallied the people in the little apartment complex where we lived.  By today's standards, it was pitiful.  But back before everybody seemed to go crazy with gift giving, it was pretty nice.  We got a few outfits, a hygiene and safety kit, a few toys and a bathtub.


When I was expecting Madelyn, I wondered about the appropriateness of having a shower for a second child.  Granted, she came 15 years after Corey.  Not to mention had I still had any of his baby clothes, they mostly wouldn't have worked for her.  Since we weren't finding out if she was male or female until her grand entrance into this world, I figured we'd just have a Welcome Baby party after we knew who she was.  Not quite how it worked out (but you won't hear me complain).


We ended up with showers from a women's group I was in, my office (all books*) and even one of the schools I serve.  Each was lovely and people were extremely generous (as has been the custom for the past eight or nine years, don't you think?).


*Okay, the books were all great, even if we did get three Bibles.  The only one that still makes me shake my head came from our group of counselors.  Which book did they collectively choose?  A first edition Beastly Feasts by Robert Forbes.  Oh, it's a great book with tons of animals.  Like "Spike the Biker," who puts cheap gas in his motorcycle and comes home in a casket.  Mad's personal favorite for at least a year now?  "The Tiger and the Tyke."  You know that old classic where big brother annoys tiger, tiger escapes and eats little brother because the other one's too fast?  Yeah.  We read that in a sing-songy voice whenever she requests it.  Now she asks for it by the first line, "Tigew tigew, feawsome sight?"  I just wonder which one of the counselors will be providing her therapy when she realizes what we've been reading.


Tom's mom's work even threw her a "grandma party," which was really a shower for Mad, just 2500 miles away.  About six weeks or so after Mad was born, we did have that meet and greet.  Nearly 70 guests and probably just as many outfits and blankets later, all the celebrations were over.


When we finally were expecting Fynn, I decided that I did not want another shower.  It just seems greedy for me to ask people to buy things for our second girl in two years.  (True to my own ways, my rules on this are just for me.  Have as many showers for all 25 of your kids as people will attend.  I don't mind.)  Plus, while I like hanging out with people, I don't really like to be the one everyone's watching. 


We've registered for stuff, but it's a shopping list for us and a chance to get another percent-off coupon once she's here.  Almost everything has been purchased.  I do believe that every child's birth should be celebrated, and we will host another Welcome Baby party.  But the girl does not need clothes, blankets or toys, so we'll be finding a way to put that on the invitations such that people don't think, "Are they just asking for money?!?"  We saved everything from Madelyn for just this situation.  The things she needs are all "big" items, like a couple of convertible car seats and bedding.  Did I ever show you the bedding we've picked out?


Imagine it with a very dark cherry crib.  

We were going to order it about two weeks ago, but something else came up and it didn't happen.

My team at work held what was supposed to have a half-day meeting on Tuesday.  I know the women, so I blocked out the whole day (smart move on my part).  Unlike most meetings, this was well thought out and well run.  It did end up taking seven hours during which I mostly behaved quite well (I'm just as shocked as anybody).  There were several points of discussion and a couple of activities.

What the heck is my point, right?  The last "activity" of the day was a surprise shower for Fynnie. 

I almost cried ugly tears.  The gifts were sweet, hilarious (like the card that said, "Dear Shan, gift's on my kitchen counter.  Love Dawn H." or the adorable set of onesies for boys because Carol thought she'd been told the baby's name is Finn William, not Fynn Willow) and extremely generous.  Like the bedding.  Nance ordered it for us.  Should be here a few weeks before the baby.

So it turns out that I'm perfectly happy to have surprise showers for this, my second daughter in two years.

Suspicious Mind

My birthday is coming.  (Note: That should not be read like you're announcing the arrival of Paul Revere.)  I have a "thing" about my birthday.  I was going to tell you the hows and whys, but remembered I'd written it last year.  The how and why is less interesting than what made me write it all down, but you might want to check it out:  Family Tradition.


This year I have tried to guide my husband into remembering that he's not the only one who likes to have a nice birthday.  Dear god I hope I have neither harassed nor harangued, but after last year I might still feel a little justified.  It hasn't been easy to keep his mind off himself as he's still going through an all-about-me thing (could this be the start of a midlife crisis?... do people still have those or was that only in the 70's?).


In any case, I have either been successful or not.  Today I received an email from a good friend saying she can't come up to see us this weekend because she's working a satellite launch.  I suspect that Tom may have arranged for a few people to come up, which would be fabulous.  However, it's entirely possible that Jo really meant to send that email to her male friend named Shannon; it's happened before.  I sent a reply saying she must have had us confused again.  I sent another email linking her to Bossy Betty's Bad Mystic Cat (which is awesome).  She replied to that and to the earlier link I'd sent so she could check out Hank's reason for not watching cable news (equally awesome, but NSFW or children), but nothing about this weekend.  Hmm...


In any case, I'm hopeful that this year's birthday will get rid of the bitter taste of last year, whether my suspicions are true or not.