Domestic Bliss Report

Motherhood is hard work. If we don't stick together, we'll all fall apart.

Sunday, December 09, 2007

Now this baby has my permission to be born.

We saw Enchanted today. It's a send-up, but an affectionate one. That's what I'd guessed from the reviews. Besides, Disney isn't going to be too malicious in mocking itself. The giant musical number in Central Park was probably my favorite part. If you have little girls, enjoy yourselves. Madeleine said the dragon wasn't even as scary as the one in Sleeping Beauty, but I was glad to have Rachel in my lap for it anyway.
The one bad point wasn't really the movie but came later. Rachel was too busy singing A Happy Working Song to actually do much work (putting her laundry away). We managed, I pretty much kept my temper by ceasing to ask her for preferences. When I'm saying with a straight face, "Do you want to walk to the bath, or should Mama drag you?" you're pretty much done really caring. And the child is pretty much just plain done.

On the way home, we stopped at Baby Megalopolis and purchased the new car seat. We got the bonus size one that holds up to 30 pounds since we know we have a boy coming. Why is the boy factor relevant? Because every boy in my side of the family has, for roughly the first two years of life, been absolutely off the growth charts. The Boy 1.0 was twenty-six pounds at six months. Honest. No exaggeration. He was in 18M clothes at six months just so we could get them around him. We did get our money's worth out of those clothes since he didn't gain any weight for two years after that, but yeah. He was "a hoss." And no, I didn't supplement at all. I lost my baby weight and he found it.
Those cute bassinets and changing tables that are good for up to 15 pounds? Ha! He was too big for those things before his cord fell off. Okay, that's a bit of a joke, but certainly before he was three months old. Don't say it's because he started at eight pounds eleven either; his big sister was eight twelve and I remember not being sure either of the girls would weigh twenty pounds by their first birthday so we could turn them.

Louie's clothes are clean and in the dresser. His car seat is in the minivan. Still in the box, but it's there. We even have diapers and wipes in the bedroom with the changing table, though not in the cabinet or wipes warmer. We've seen the movie I wanted for the kids.

Now you watch. He'll wait until the 19, just for spite, and prove himself his mother's son.

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2 Comments:

At 5:42 AM, Blogger The Story Of Us........ said...

Ah yes, I know those moments well.

Like the day when the twins were having meltdowns one after the other and for no apparent reason. At dinner, one was tugging on my arm as I tried to eat, he asked me why I was leaving after dinner and began to make the all too familiar,
"I'm about to scream" face.

I actaully said, "oh goody are you going to cry? Can I watch?" with a grin and wide eyed enthusiasm.

Yikes!

We mothers do have our moments don't we.

He refused to cry though! LOL

 
At 9:03 AM, Blogger Amy said...

My grandmother-in-law had a litte jar she'd give my husband and sisters-in-law when they cried. If they filled it up with their tears, they could have what they wanted or she'd correct whatever was upsetting them. None of them ever did it.

Heather - CJs in 12-18 month stuff, too - except that he's TALL rather than round. I had to turn his car seat because he had his knees practically in his chest (he's in a convertable seat, as the carrier was outgrown QUICKLY).

Louie won't wait until the 19th. He'll be here Friday. Just a hunch. Good luck, God bless, and I can't wait for the good news!

 

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