Rambling
I noticed today that my Google reader queue is getting a bit thin. So many women are in between cycles, not blogging so much now that they’re mommies, or simply not blogging so much… I think I need to visit your actual sites (instead of being a cheater and going through my reader!) and go through your blogrolls to find some new ladies to feed my bloggy habit…
Nothing else about me is thinning up, though. I had my last (last!) endocrinologist’s appointment yesterday, and he was so sweet. So very happy to release me from his care. Made me promise to bring the baby in to meet him. Made me swear to have a marvelous time in Italy.
Um, if you insist.
Now, assuming my August vacation gets approved – and at this point, there’s no reason NOT to approve it – my last day of work will be in the last week of July. That’s only like 2 months away. Yeah, not minding this at all. Thinking it might be kinda swell, actually. Time to write at a time when I’ll likely be wanting to do nothing more than loll on a comfy couch and type, languidly. Time to write and cook meals to put in the freezer and get settled into a being-at-home routine before my life gets taken over by Thor’s (OMG he’s going to be here in SEPTEMBER!) arrival.
I spoke with the Princess yesterday – the Boy was astonished at how civil I sounded! – and she confirmed my suspicion that the library system will probably not reopen the Realm of Pain. Another bit of juicy goodness. She also confirmed that managers are not exempt from the massive layoff that began yesterday, so I’ll be indulging in a bit of scheudenfraude simply because I AM that nasty.
Otherwise? I’m feeling good – other than the headcold. Thor’s moving around a lot. I got a ton of sleep last night thanks to this being a late night and hence, a late morning. Acid reflux is still destroying my esophagus no matter what I eat or don’t eat/drink or don’t drink, but I’m getting better at sleeping while sitting up, so it’s working out. And the heartburn always goes away after a couple of hours in bed, so by 1am or so, I can sleep in any position at all, which is nice.
Moisturizing religiously. Enjoying the comfort & freedom of my new giganto-bras. Making friends with my belly-button. Talking to Thor. Feeling him kick-kick under my hand. Daydreaming about baby expeditions. Eating salad so he’ll be strong and healthy. Day dreaming about what the heck he’s gonna LOOK like, because it sure as hell won’t be me he takes after.
I’d mentioned when we first started looking into DE that I’m not vain, and I don’t necessarily feel the need to pass along my face/hair/eye color/DNA structure, etc. But last night when Thor was stomping on me, the Boy said without thinking, “Well, it’s obvious he’s going to have his mama’s hobbit-feet. “Um, probably not, actually,” I had to say, and it kind of killed the warm&fuzzy moment, which made me feel sad and unnecessarily sensitive. I should’ve just nodded noncommittally. I think I’m going to need to come up with something to say – something polite, but not an outright lie – when comments about how much he resembles me come up in the course of casual conversation with folks not in the know.
Ramble ramble ramble. Going to go in to work now and get laid off. Maybe during the big “we’re so sorry to let you go” meeting I can get a few blog posts organized in my head so that there’s something worth reading here tomorrow.
Or maybe I’ll just ramble for a while. It seems to be what I do these days.
An adoptive mother I know always just accepts the resemblance talk and says something like “Amazing, isn’t it!” It sort of covers all the bases, but also fosters the connection between them as well.
Susan Reply:
May 13th, 2010 at 9:40 am
Yeah – I kind of like that. Because I AM a nice person (believe it or not!) and I DON’T want people to feel self-conscious about saying all the things you say about new squashy looking babies. But I’m also enough of a stickler for the truth that I have a really hard time saying something that isn’t true just to keep the peace. “Amazing, isn’t it!” DOES work. It satisfies my honesty as well as my niceness requirements.
Mind if I swipe it and add it to my repertoire?
thinking of you!
xoxxo
Kate
If people not in the know comment about his resembling you, I’d just say “Thank you” and leave it at that. If they don’t already know the saga, there’s no reason for them to have to know.
I’m with Sarah, the people I know that have adopted have ended up with kids that resemble them. Wierd. Oh and I love that saying too.
I am doing a happy dance in my seat about the nighmare boss possibly? probably? getting let go too. Couldn’t happen to a more deserving person. Now, if I could only get rid of my own nightmare boss and realm of pain…
Ok, I know that since I’m not pregnant and not a mom, my opinion is probably not worth that much. However, I’ve seen people around my adopt children who interestingly enough turn out looking and acting exactly like their adoptive parents. So much so that it’s hard to remember they aren’t biologically related. So I think Thor may very well inherit your hobbit feet!
OK, check out my lastest post and tell me what you think of the Lovenox/Heparin thing? Did you know about all of that? Geeezzz!
I’m genetically nothing to my parents and I still hear how we look alike, how Bobby and Maya look like them, etc. Somewhere down the line, we are all interconnected and related. Try not to let “he has your eyes” bother you, dear… In a way he does… He sees the world through the eyes you’ve gestated and shown him.
I wish I had a slimmer blog roll sometimes! I swear; I’m never caught up!
I don’t want to scare you but you may want to ask for a prescription to reduce your stomach acid. I had mild-moderate heartburn during my pregnancy (after long fertility struggle) and had a life threatening perforated ulcer when my sweet boy was 9 days old. Thankfully I made it fine and it was caught in the nick of time (they were assuming it was post partum related). I just know if it would have happened when pregnant the odds of us both surviving were low. I hate to tell scary stories to pregnant women but I really felt I should mention it. Maybe you could bring it up at your next OB appt.
I’m a lurker (who loves your style) and I’m not an infertile, so I really have not much room to comment, but…and I truly do not intend to minimize things – my brother and his wife have four adopted children. Three are of different races than we are, but the fourth – a boy – is not. And, he looks so much like MY son (a young adult) at every stage of his life that it is totally uncanny for us all. And, even with not one single bit of DNA from my brother, he has the exact same mannerisms, attitudes, tendencies that my brother (and, to a certain extent, my son) has. Please don’t take offense at my commenting on a subject I have no right to (especially as a person you don’t “know”) but I thought it was worth pointing out…
How I have MISSED you! Oh, the amount of sick that we have gone through in the last month has left me positively exhausted. Not only was I cleaning up copious amounts of vomit and diarrhea (my son’s) and nursing back to back ear infections (my son’s) brought on by a chest cold (my son’s) and then a fever of unknown origina (my son’s) but I have literally coughed up a lung as well as tended to the other sickee among us (my husband).
Please g-d, knock wood, and throw salt over my shoulder, it is all finally behind us. I have a lot of catching up to do here and elsewhere so forgive me if I respond to not so recent blog posts as it is all news to me.
And, through all this sick, I’ve racked up enough of my own posts that I hope to update soon. In a nutshell, at almost 44 (my birthday is next week), maybe I really and truly am meant to be a mother to an only child.
Hi Susan,
I can add a little from the opposite side. My mother is Irish, father is American Indian. I have dark hair and dark eyes, yet I gave birth to two red haired girls with blue/green eyes. People have said, in front of the kids, “Wow, she doesn’t look anything like you. Is she adopted?” Not once, not twice… enough times to make me wonder about common sense and it’s extinction.
When the youngest was born, who has dark hair and dark eyes, and people started commenting on how much she looks like me, I saw the hurt in the littlest red-haired child’s eyes. I started saying, “No. She looks just like herself.”
It’s not a perfect solution, but it worked for me.