When He Grows Up...

As little kids, and even into our teenage years, I think we all remember thinking or saying "When I grow up I'm going to be a...". Well now I find myself thinking about my own little baby. What sport is he going to play if any? What things is he going to take an interest in? Is he going to be a number crunching, logistical super geek like his Dad or a passionate, arts loving, literature buff like his Mom? Maybe both. Maybe neither. All I know is that whatever this little boy of mine decides he wants to do, I will always be one proud mother...unless what he wants to do is sniff glue or hold a Guiness World Record for the most amount of hair plucked out of an individual by a pair of tweezers. My son, "the hairless wonder." It has a nice ring to it, don't you think?

J

Characters Worth Remembering

I'm an English major, which means I've read a lot of books in my day. Therefore, last night as I held my darling baby in my arms and tried to block out his cantankerous caterwauls, a random question entered my mind: out of all the literature I've ever read, what five characters are my favorite and why? It was difficult to whittle it down (and I have more favorites) but here it is:

1. MAX from Where the Wild Thing Are by Maurice Sendak. This was one of my favorite books as a child. I have always been a bit of a tom-boy but at one point in my childhood I actually fancied myself a boy and would run around with my shirt off swinging one of my father's socks around with a tennis ball in the end. So when I read this story about a boy who was sent to his room for chasing his dog with a fork and growling at his Mom while wearing a wolf costume only to be transported to the land of the Wild Things where he eventually becomes King - well, what mischief making child wouldn't dream of such an adventure??

2. JIM HAWKINS from Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson. I've read this book about ten times and it still doesn't get old. Pirates, buried treasure, sword play, treachery, and triumph. These are the perfect ingredients to inspire a child's imagination. Did I mention there are pirates? Are we seeing a theme yet? Child empowerment anyone?

3. ALGERNON ("ALGY") MONCRIEFF from The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde. Although he's a spoiled London aristocrat, he's just so incredibly witty and hilarious that his immoral and pretentious sensibilities seem like more of a virtue than a vice. I've always admired wit and being able to say exactly what you mean, when you mean to say it and in the cleverest way possible.

4. ELIZABETH BENNET from Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austin. I admire how Elizabeth is intelligent, witty and is able to stray (albeit slightly) from her society's expectations of her and still be rewarded for her deviation. Plus, I love how she is able to insult in a sophisticated way. If only I had that talent - not that I want to insult people.

5. SCOUT FINCH from To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee. Even though she's fictitious, I have such an admiration for this little girl - her spunk and tenacity - as well as her adamant loyalty to her father and his morals. Plus, she's a tom-boy just like I was. There is just such an innocent charm to her rationale and a charming naivete to her narrative.

I'm curious. What are your favorite fictitious characters from literature?

J

The Human EMP

Electronics and me are like oil and water; bleach and ammonia; baking soda and vinegar. I'm sure there are a plethora of other comparisons to be made but the point is this: God thought it would be a great joke to make me a human electro-magnetic pulse. Why? Who knows. What I DO know is that 9 times out of 10 (this instant being that elusive but safe 10%) my dark gift is manifest in blinking blue screens of death on the computer, system failures, electric shocks, viruses, and all manner of mishaps that Ken blames on me for merely looking at an electronic device.

Perhaps one day we will discover a scientific explanation for all of this like my ability to generate electromagnetic forces that I can't yet control or something in my plasma that allows me to emit light energy blasts. Or maybe...those are just character descriptions from X-Men? I guess we'll never know. For now, keep your electronics hidden because who knows when I'll strike next!

And Then it Happened Some More

When we got to the hospital we were instantly set up in a triage room. The nurse then had the audacity to ask, "Why are you here?" I knew she was just doing her job but, seriously, are you blind? I'M HAVING A FREAKING BABY! I didn't have the patience to answer any of her questions after she offended me with the first so I remained mute while Ken spoke for me. Meanwhile, down the hall, I could hear a group of nurses chatting and laughing (and quite loudly I might add) which only further kindled my anger. What is this? A party on the third floor PLC prenatal triage unit? Come on people. I am not laughing through this contraction, therefore, you shall not laugh...EVER. These were the type of thoughts running through my brain but I neither had the energy nor the focus to actually speak them out loud. I was preoccupied with other matters like willing my cervix to dilate as quickly as possible.

My Jedi skills must have worked because when the doctor finally came to check me I was 7cm dilated and I had only been in triage for 30 minutes! They asked me if I wanted an epidural but by the time I got to the labour and delivery room I was 8cm dilated so I decided to just go with the pain. Plus, there was no way I would be able to lean over and stay still while they shoved a needle down my back.

Don't think that Ken was doing nothing all that while. Well, actually, he was doing nothing, but that's only because I wouldn't let him touch me or talk to me. I barely even opened my eyes through the whole labour ( I found out afterwards when I looked in the mirror that this was because my eye lids were crazy swollen). However, he did serve as a good water and ice chip boy...which was much appreciated.

Finally the moment came: a 10cm dilation and the urge to push. I was so excited! Little did I know that I would be pushing for an hour and a half. I swear in all the movies, the girl gives like 5 good pushes and the baby's out. Was it so unrealistic to expect the same thing? Push after push the doctor kept saying, "You're almost there." By the 20th push I was convinced that she was a compulsive liar, that the baby's head wasn't "right there" and that they would soon have to suction my poor baby out of my lifeless body. But then, eureka, with one last push, the baby shot out (quite literally) and I was soon holding the most adorable blob of goo and amniotic fluid I had ever seen. After 6 1/2 hours of labour, 25 stitches and a plethora of broken blood vessels, Ken and I were gushing over the newest addition to the family. Introducing Russell Ross Conrad - lately pronounced "Wussell Woss". We're going to give our kid a speech impediment but, hey, he's alive...for now.


J

And Then it Happened

Because I have just undergone a massive life-altering event (the birth of my first child), I find it necessary to chronicle the details of his emergence into the world. And so it begins...

I was due April 29th but had been told numerous times not to expect the baby to come on the actual due date as this was quite an improbablity; only something like 1% of deliveries take place when they are supposed to. Anyways, on the night of April 28th Ken and I settled in for a peaceful night's sleep that would soon prove to be not so peaceful. I experienced a strange dream where I would see myself from a bird's eye view in labour. That might not seem so strange but then throw me into a hospital bed in a meadow full of flowers on top of a mountain being watched by a purple Lynx and suddenly it gets a lot stranger. This dream reoccurred at least four times and on the fourth time, I began to feel this awful and uncomfortable tightening in my lower abdomen - and more precisley, my uterus. The feeling woke me up and at 4:17 am I soon realized that I was having contractions and they were already seven minutes apart!

I waited until I had four regular contractions before I turned to Ken, shook his shoulder and said, "Oh Kenny-boy, we're going to have a baby...like literally...and in the very near future." Normally, it would have taken my sleeping beauty a full five minutes to recover his senses, stretch, yawn, turn over onto his side and rub his eyes before waking from his slumber but this time he threw back the covers, instantly jumped out of bed and cried, "Are we ready? Do we have everything? How far part are the contractions?" while he rummaged around in the desk for a paper and pen to record the contraction times. At this point, the contractions were still light enough that my face was able to register my amusement.

Within an hour the contractions became closer and closer together and more and more uncomfortable until it was time to make that ancient and well-travelled journey: the trek to the hospital.

...to be continued...

-J

Craving

Just a moment ago I felt the great need to devour a piece of creamy, delicious chocolate and absant-mindedly expressed this desire to my husband, who wisely (and curtly) responded like so: "But we just had dinner. If you're still hungry, have an apple or something." Oh Ken, you just don't understand. One does not eat chocolate because one is hungry. Being hungry has nothing to do with it, unless, of course he meant "hungry" as in desirous as opposed to a condition resulting from a lack of food. I strongly infer that based on his usage of the word, Ken meant the latter. I apologize - I digress. The point is, sometimes a gal just needs a palatable pick-me-up and chocolate is a prime candidate for pick-me-up-ness. I think someone needs to explain what a "craving" is to this husband of mine and then remind him of his obligation -nay duty - to indulge my cravings (at least every once in a while), given my "delicate" state. Eat an apple! I scoff at the very idea.

J

Sleeping Beauty

I just have to say that there is nothing worse than being forced to breath through your mouth while sleeping at night to accomodate that nasty reoccurrence: the stuffy nose. I certainly did not wake up feeling refreshed, unless "refreshed" feels like a residued mouth and hairy teeth. Moreover, discovering a few saliva stains on the pillow was just the icing on the cake. Take a hike congestion - I need my beauty rest because no straight thinking person would ever kiss this morning glory.