Further adventures of Rocketbride: May 14, 2003.

I don't care if you don't want me cause I'm yours yours yours anyhow

may 14, 2003.

Things are sneaking up on me in unexpected ways. I'll be basking in the spring air like the mindless bivalve I aspire to be, and I'll think, 'by the time the snow falls again, I'll have a baby.' And then I think about my nether regions, and a human being emerging from thence with the blood and other stuff and I can't make it real. I think about having a baby of my own, one I can kiss and cuddle & sing silly songs to 24 hours a day and I start to shake. Really. I'm shaking now. I'm not sure if it's fear or shock or just exhaustion (haven't been sleeping very well, stupid necessary happy pills).
I'm so thrilled that this is happening, and so deeply scared. I wonder desperately if I'll be up to this, and if my marriage will be. The Boy will be a wonderful father; that's not the issue. I worry about us. His father was very angry for a very long time, and it wasn't until after the divorce that happy, well-balanced dad could re-surface. I'm worried that the Boy will have that buried in him like a depth charge, waiting patiently to blow our relationship to pieces.
I worry that the birth will be horribly traumatic and I'll wish I went to a hospital and got a lot of drugs instead of doing it the natchurl way but it'll be too late. I'm not worried that I'll lose control and curse out my Boy - it's happened; we can deal.
I've been reading my mother's 1976 copy of Dr. Spock. Ever since I saw "Raising Arizona," I've referred to this book as "the instructions." The Boy keeps laughing about the language revisions, but I'm finding it extremely helpful. Unfortunately, not a lot has changed since 1976 - except permissiveness is, if anything, more widespread. I love how everything's itemized, from "manually expressing breast milk" to "a child who won't eat anything but hamburger, peas and white bread." Still, I figure that a few things have changed in 27 years...so, because I'm po' (yet curious), I made up a Wish List. Click on the link only if you've got a wad of money burning a hole in your pocket. You don't have to pay your way here; the fact that you read my journal is enough thanks for me. Really. :)

We had a long afternoon PD session today, and I was once again reminded that my problems with the admin are not at all typical of teaching in the region. I heard those three magic words, as if for the first time: "call the Union." Sigh.

2 years ago today: when Nic wears it, he looks like a wild-eyed anarchist punk, but when I wear it I look like I'm auditioning for a live action Rice Krispies commercial


	may 14, 2003. Things are sneaking up on me in unexpected ways. I'll be basking in the spring air like the mindless bivalve I aspire to be, and I'll think, 'by the time the snow falls again, I'll have a baby.' And then I think about my nether regions, and a human being emerging from thence with the blood and other stuff and I can't make it real. I think about having a baby of my own, one I can kiss and cuddle & sing silly songs to 24 hours a day and I start to shake. Really. I'm shaking now. I'm not sure if it's fear or shock or just exhaustion (haven't been sleeping very well, stupid necessary happy pills). I'm so thrilled that this is happening, and so deeply scared. I wonder desperately if I'll be up to this, and if my marriage will be. The Boy will be a wonderful father; that's not the issue. I worry about us. His father was very angry for a very long time, and it wasn't until after the divorce that happy, well-balanced dad could re-surface. I'm worried that the Boy will have that buried in him like a depth charge, waiting patiently to blow our relationship to pieces. I worry that the birth will be horribly traumatic and I'll wish I went to a hospital and got a lot of drugs instead of doing it the natchurl way but it'll be too late. I'm not worried that I'll lose control and curse out my Boy - it's happened; we can deal. I've been reading my mother's 1976 copy of Dr. Spock. Ever since I saw "Raising Arizona," I've referred to this book as "the instructions." The Boy keeps laughing about the language revisions, but I'm finding it extremely helpful. Unfortunately, not a lot has changed since 1976 - except permissiveness is, if anything, more widespread. I love how everything's itemized, from "manually expressing breast milk" to "a child who won't eat anything but hamburger, peas and white bread." Still, I figure that a few things have changed in 27 years...so, because I'm po' (yet curious), I made up a Wish List. Click on the link only if you've got a wad of money burning a hole in your pocket. You don't have to pay your way here; the fact that you read my journal is enough thanks for me. Really. :) We had a long afternoon PD session today, and I was once again reminded that my problems with the admin are not at all typical of teaching in the region. I heard those three magic words, as if for the first time: "call the Union." Sigh. 2 years ago today: when Nic wears it, he looks like a wild-eyed anarchist punk, but when I wear it I look like I'm auditioning for a live action Rice Krispies commercial