So I’ve done some serious considering, as of late.

I’ve decided that a public service 3rd pregnancy announcement via Facebook is exactly as trite and cliche as starting a mommy blog to chronicle the news of something as rare as triplets.  But seeing as how I am not just starting this blog (and not, to my knowledge, carrying triplets), it does not feel trite nor cliche at all to announce here, that we are expecting our 3rd baby, some time in December.  (This is according to the ever medically accurate iPeriod Ap on my once dreaded but now necessary for life iPhone).

Funny how by the third go around scheduling a doctor’s appointment, or for that matter, having an OBGYN, doesn’t seem quite so important.

Funny, also, how by the third go around, I am already realizing how many pregnancy details I blissfully blocked out.  I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’ve been singing from the rooftops my hatred of all things pregnancy since the moment Eliott was born and the idea of having even one more, let alone several (as per my plan for world domination) made me want to die, or embrace further aspects of science and birth engineering.  I’m seriously wondering how I did this, with Carter anyway, while working full time.  (I vaguely remember bribing my students with extra credit for gifts of food and I’m not sure I was above napping in my oversized desk chair during 4th period planning.  Other than that though, the rest feels like a migraine headache blur, which, is probably exactly why I have no memory of it all.)

I did, however, take back several hypothetical-wishes with John, when I saw this most disturbing picture:

Nevermind. This would actually be worse.

So here we are again, Fetus.  You, and me, and Zofran, and at least sixteen weeks without any dairy.  (I can live without cream in my coffee for a while, but did you have to take away my extra sharp cheddar by the block?  I’m going to remind you of this on your 16th birthday, mark my seasoned motherly words.)

I’m now feeling relatively confident, based on the consistency of things, that you must be carrying two X chromosomes, and it was indeed a mistake to consign every single bit of my 2T and smaller pink clothing.  It’s just as well.  There is a severe lack of cool and confident women in the world, and as long as this family doesn’t go all Lisbon-sisters on me one day, I think I could get used to the idea of simply breeding awesome women in the face of the staggering odds against changing the world one person at a time.

Around here, we breed awesome.

In the meantime, dear readers, I promise not to regale you with weekly belly pictures and weight updates.  I might be checking out for a while, as napping often takes precedence in the afternoon to everything else.  I will, however, try to keep you abreast of the genius words of wisdom spewing forth from the mouths of my two current children, on all things baby related.  Most are far better than the things I could come up with on my own.

Because I Am Not One for Cliches
Tagged on:         

0 thoughts on “Because I Am Not One for Cliches

  • How are babies made? Is there a website that I can go to if I want to see people simulating the act of baby making? Is it true that the prime indicator of someone’s awesomeness is their propensity to vomit? Why do women lie about humor being an attractive quality?

  • I have been thinking of you recently and wondering how round 3 was going. You know I feel nothing but pure pity for you right now. Gosh, I don’t miss those days. I never ever will. Take it easy. Well, I know you’re doing that. hah.

  • Yea for reproduction! Ok, so lets talk frank since you and I are from the same school of “what the hell is wrong with people that like pregnancy?” and ” No, I could care less how close your big belly is to exploding” and ” if I see one more post update about what you ate and then regurgitated, how bad your headaches are, the baby wants taco bell, look at my blurry ultrasound pic, I will scream”… hows it going?? No really. I have just come out of the newborn euphoria phase where everything is perfect and precious and I stare at my offspring and think, dude, I want to do this again. Im now at the infant stage where I think, please let me hold on to any part of my own self and sanity while also being the super kick ass mom to these two beautiful girls. I came out with pretty lucky, beautiful and well rounded and even temperament girls and managed to stay the same weight Ive always been. If I do it again, will I mess that up? When did you get to the point where you did actually want another go around? In other words, how old are Eliott and Carter? Im thinking if we ever do have another, which like I mention, is probably unlikely, but at the same time with me having this little voice saying, aww come on, I think it will be a long time down the road. So basically, please keep me posted on your experience, the good, bad and ugly. Im basically basing my future of child bearing off of you..if you can do it, I guess I can. If you cant, I sure cant. So congrats and I hope you use every bit of guilt on John these next trimesters to get everything you always wanted 🙂

  • Ok maybe that was a bit egocentric and sounds more like diarrhea of the mouth, but the heading said “what are you thinking?” and so I wrote it. Your namesake is looking at me and I think she just said ” Way to go Team Baby Girls! Youre up next to bat, hit us a homer!” or something to that effect.

  • Congratulations! And bless you for not regaling America with the belly pictures. There are so many people in the 22-30 age range who do this and make me want to punch them on a continual basis.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *