I’ve had a few posts drafted up, but whenever I’ve opened them to hit publish, I’ve felt rather fake because how can I tell you about things like spending time 300 feet in the air, surveying an old growth forest or paying a neighborhood kid five bucks to wash my car when there are important stirrings in the Chez Mona, so here goes.
Mike and I are going to have another baby.
I’m not pregnant. Yet.
This is a weird climatic and then anti-climatic post of mentioning pregnancy without the whole being with child part, but it’s a huge move for us, figuring that only a few weeks ago we were staunch one-child-only-folks-like-China-but-only-USA!-USA!-USA!
We have decided that it’s time to have another child, time for Nathan to have a brother or sister. Maybe interacting with a small human will help him stop bodyslamming the cats and treating them like toys that move.
I don’t even know how some people can hold off on talking about pregnancy, (JONNIKER! JEN!) when there is so much to say and I am not even pregnant yet. I still have the IUD firmly implanted and there are no DIY instructions for removal (you fail me google), so the next available appointment is mid-September. I hate that my obstetrician’s office doesn’t keep special hours for people who want to have babies right away because isn’t that their business? Why make me wait almost three weeks when I want to have babies now! I’m regretting that I went with the Mirena and not the copper IUD because at least with a copper version I can take it to some shady metal-peddler and get like three dollars for it. Cash money, son!
There’s some time before the babymaking can commence, and in the meantime I am filled with bizarre, non-tangential questions what if we had a boy? Could I fulfill my fantasy of naming a child Elroy, like George’s boy in The Jetsons? That way, if people ask why we chose Elroy and was it because of that cartoon, I would scoff this remark with, “No! It celebrates his Spanish heritage. His name is El Roy.”
Or will my mothering-fu handle another child? I use my son’s shirt to wipe my hands. Sometimes I’ll tell Nathan to press the elevator button because he loves buttons and I’m not going to press it–do you know how germy those buttons are? Blech.
As crazy as this sounds, having another baby makes sense. Nathan was a wonderful baby and has grown into a bright light that constantly shines its awesomeness on me–whenever he’s not trying to walk without bending his knees while we’re crossing the street. And all this excitement has clouded my head this week, so much that it’s hard to type anything other than, OMG YOU GUYS!