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The Rainbow is here!


When asked several months ago what we should name baby, my kids had two answers: Rainbow (from Jenn; even nicer in Spanish — Arcoiris) and Max (from Jake).  Of course, Rainbow is the name that stuck because it’s silly cute and way less common than Max.

Though Rainbow was due (and scheduled) for later in July, he decided to come on July 1 – a Canada Day surprise for all of us. Fortunately, for my Canadian husband, (who longs for many things he misses from the homeland), Rainbow made up for the lack of a Canada Day celebration. And fortunately for the husband, who has been living in Ohio during the week, he was home a day early for the 4th of July long weekend, so he got to come along to the hospital with me and Rainbow. (Actually, he didn’t come for about two hours after Rainbow and I first got  there, so certain were we that the doctors would smile patronizingly, pat me on the shoulder and send us back home. I even knew what kind of ice cream we were going to buy on the way home. But that’s a story for a different day.)

So Rainbow was born, three weeks early in a tiny hospital 90 miles from our intended hospital. The doctors and nurses were lovely, the room was giant and the food was delicious. We were the only ones on the whole labor and delivery floor for most of our stay, except for one morning when a lady (also from out of town) came in to have twins. (The whole twins’ birth wrecked everything, as I couldn’t get a nurse’s attention that morning to save my life. The babies were early so were transferred to another hospital shortly after.)

In addition to remembering what life with a newborn is like (sweet and awful), I have been busily canceling all of my necessary pre-birth appointments. Apparently, it’s possible to have a baby without a fresh pedicure, nice eyebrows or new blond highlights. Or maybe Rainbow and I are a miracle. Rest assured, I’ll resume my grooming regimen once we return to the city, but nobody has commented on it yet. I expect nobody has been able to look past my new stripper-sized chest to notice that my hair needs color. Fortunately all of these things are only temporary.

Jul 7, 2011

New babies and my ever-sliding standards


Everybody seems to agree — parenting evolves with each subsequent child. Which is to say, in my case, my standards have fallen and I am less concerned with lots of the extraneous stuff. Maybe, 6 years after my first pregnancy,  I’m more lazy, (yes), maybe I’m more busy (yes), maybe I just know better which things we really need. (Or maybe I’m justifying. Very possibly.)

My third baby is coming in four weeks, I’m told. My cousin (younger and sweeter than I) is having her first baby in about two weeks, give or take, and our “parallel pregnancies” have been fun to follow. Aside from being younger and sweeter, she is also made for this parenting thing and seems utterly ready. I had a wild panic attack when, upon seeing a picture of her new baby’s room, I realized I didn’t have ANYTHING ready for my baby 3. Nary a diaper purchased. The preparations are complicated by the fact that we’re moving cities a few weeks after his grand arrival, but I hadn’t even come up with sleeping accommodations for my poor bugger. (Though I owe a big thanks to MomTrends, as at their Travel Event last week, I  was the lucky winner of the Britax Baby Carrier so my poor bugger will at least be schlepped in style!)

So while I now can haul around baby 3 easily, he has no where to sleep because I got rid of our drop-side crib (that my two nieces, nephew and my two big kids have all used) because they are now deemed dangerous.  My cousin’s baby’s room has beautifully painted knobs on the dresser and my poor bugger doesn’t even have a bed. Should someone call children’s services? Doesn’t it seem silly to put together a crib for three weeks? Won’t he just torture me in my bed for the first few weeks anyway? Happily, we still have a pack-n-play somewhere in the back of a closet, and that can be a bed for a few weeks, can’t it? I was feeling moderate about the decision, but still longing for a “done” baby’s room. This thought process inevitably set off one of my “I’m-supposed-to-be-nesting-not-packing” tantrums, which hit me most evenings.

Like everything else, it’s always a matter of what roads you have been down. The night I started worrying about painted knobs, I was chatting with my husband’s grandmother and she was remembering how sad she was when she left England as a young bride with her husband and kids. Of course, they were after a better life, but she was still sad to leave her home country. I was lamenting our upcoming move and she laughed when I complained that I didn’t even have a bed for the baby. “Well, dear, ” she said. “When they’re that small, a drawer will be fine. He won’t know and you won’t tell him.”  Begrudgingly, I have to admit that she’s right. Now if I can keep the big kids from telling him.





Filed under Babies, Expectations, Family
Jun 21, 2011

3rd time is definitely the charm


After Jenn was born three years ago, I was done. The thought of having a third baby was so crazy to me (being pregnant is a bother; newborns are a bother; gaining a million pounds is a bother; no booze is a bother, etc.) that I promptly got rid of everything, against all of my hoarder husband’s best intentions.  Breast pump? Gone to a friend in Canada. Changing table? Craig’s List freebie. Crib? Tossed because it had a drop-side and CPSC now deems it unsafe. (Though it was fine for my nephew, two nieces and my two kids.) Maternity clothes? Virtually burned the moment I returned home from the hospital because they were symbols of the fat/unpleasant/non-fit person that I generally become while pregnant.(Yes, I know that’s not a pregnancy requirement, though it seems to be how I do it.)  Infant clothes? Sent to a church in Colombia with a travelling friend. Slings and baby-wearing paraphanalia? I never figured out any of the sling-y wrappy (which is to say, fabulous, earth mother-ish) ones so they went pretty much the moment I gave up on ever using them but fortunately the Baby Bjorn (which I love) is still in my closet. Anyway, baby is allegedly arriving this summer and I have nothing, and until I go into that crazy nesting phase, I’m pretty okay with that.

We weren’t original: with Jake, the adored first — we read all the books and got everything textbook ready and we smiled calmly at the heralding trumpets. Jenn, #2, arrived with much less fanfare:   she wore his blue onesies, gazed at him while we gazed at her and and (gasp!) she was fine, if not better for it. And then we decided a third would be fun and (good gracious!) I got knocked up. Yippee. We have no crib, I have my fattest pants held together with a rubber band,  and I even ditched all the books — the What to Expects, the sleep ones, the NYC baby ones, and I’m still sure we’ll be fine. I’m old and cranky but my big kids are fired up and I have the gift of knowing how fleeting those initial months really are! (And that knowledge is helpful because I really find the first months awful.)

Don’t worry — # 3 will not suffer. I swear we’ll find a crib for him and for everybody’s benefit, I’ll find some clothes soon that show neither my crack nor the underside of my belly.  Actually, I need to find said magic garment soon because next weekend, I am lucky enough to be going to the first-ever Brooklyn Baby Expo. While I’m not a Brooklyn-er, I’m looking forward to the event as it will include product testing, demonstrations and seminars. Particularly interesting as we return to baby-ness is a seminar with the NYC Sleep Doctor on Raising a Good Sleeper. (I mentioned this seminar to the husband and he replied, “That sounds great –  I would like to sleep better.”)

I’m also excited to meet some other new and soon-to-be new parents, because let’s face it, my friends with older kids like mine don’t really want to re-visit baby gear and baby issues with me. They’re eager to hold my sleeping #3 and then will happily go home with their trim abs and barf-free shirts and sleep all night. It’s the new parents, the eager-beavers we all were before our first babies, who are the people with the energy and hope we need.  The Expo (Register at ) will also be having demos on baby food making and cloth diapering and while I failed on both of those the first times around, maybe the third time is the charm.

Ok, that wasn’t entirely true. Lamemom never once tried cloth diapers; in fact,  I cringe whenever I see them. And my baby-food making lasted about four days and my children still don’t eat my food, unless a delivery man brings it on a bicycle.

Filed under Babies
Mar 5, 2011

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