Gold Medal in Navel-Gazing
Over the weekend we caught a rerun of the Olympic trials in platform diving--kids tossing their just-hatched-out-of-high-school bodies at the water from a face-smashing three-story ledge. Some of them probably still had Desitin on their bums.
Whenever I've thought of this December baby--or, before him, any child I might have with Simon--I've been comforted by a handful of near-certainties: He'll be a musician. He'll like to read. He'll be such a lanky and gangly teenager the OED will coin in his honor the term "gankly," illustrated with a picture of our boy at age fourteen, all arms and legs and headgear.
But what of the traits and interests and passions that aren't passed down from good old mom and pops but that instead spring forth, fully formed, as Gold and Glowing Good Ideas in a young boy's mind? Things like crocodile hunting, Xtreme skateboarding, and, god forbid, platform diving? What if he's really into bugs or space travel or Richard Simmons? What if his sport of choice is Mathletics? Of course, there's always the potential that he'll bring us an embarrassment of wealth and fame by pursuing any of the above (and what are kids good for if not earning enough before they're twelve to buy mama a condo in Hawaii?), but I'm still not sure the medals, smash-hit television series, promotional lines of sneakers, or mounted-dungbeetle-as-Mother's-Day-gifts will make up for my daily heart attacks.
Those darn get-me-every-time Olympic Moments always start me thinking about the larger picture, about the parents of the athletes, their proudest moments and their most difficult sacrifices, and now that I'm on my way to becoming a parent myself, it's even more of a trip. It seems like anyone who does anything great these days--be it in sports or academics or entertainment or anything, really--started training as a youngster, which means that although I have years and years to brace myself for whatever "major" greatness my son will achieve, it's really not all that far away. The interests he has as a toddler may well be the foundation for his eventual career. And then again maybe they won't. Stacking blocks does not always an architect make.
Nevertheless, it's hard not let my mind wade through the possibilities, especially now that I'm reminded many, many, many times a day (don't you ever sleep, baby?) that there is a whole entire separate human being in my uterus that will one day not be content to just suck on his toes and blow spit bubbles when there are far awesomer things to do, like cliff dive or drag race or run for government office. What then? This is the most thrilling kind of terrifying.
Finally, I feel dumb even bringing this up because, gee, what parent hasn't navel-gazed to the tune of What Will My Child Be When S/He Grows Up? All throughout this pregnancy, I've found it hard to write anything deep and profound here because I know that all the deep and profound things about motherhood and parenting has all been said before. Every pregnancy and every child is unique, sure, but that uniqueness is also the one thing we all have in common. It's wonderful, it's miraculous, it's icky, it's weird, but whatever it is, we're never ever alone in any of it. That's a comfort and also, at least for me, a mental roadblock.
The thing I need to keep reminding myself is that we public journal writers don't always have to say something new so long as we keep saying something. I've been wanting a baby so long, I often think of myself as the last person out there to have one, and I find I sometimes need to actively remind myself that I am no more the last at this than I am the first. Which means that although I'll never say something earth-shatteringly original, I'll probably at least say something that someone out there hasn't heard once or a thousand times before. I think of all the things I'd heard about for the first time on someone's website--the two-week wait, the glucose screening test, the cracked and bleeding nipples, the diaper blowouts--and I'm grateful that although those women (and men) weren't necessarily saying anything "new," it was new to me. I guess that's how we learn. I guess that's how we grow up into the people we become, whoever we might be--mothers, bloggers, gold-medal bobsledders, or white-knuckled blogging mothers of gold-medal bobsledders.
Try not to drive yourself crazy considering the possibilities. One thing at a time, have baby, raise baby, send baby to earth in capsule as planet explodes etc... It will all happen however it happens although for my plan the baby's dad is the fat Marlon Brando.
So, so true and something I hadn't thought of. Just because it's not a new thought doesn't mean it won't change the way someone out there thinks for the very first time.
Also, while watching Entourage the other day I thought, "What if my kid grows up to be the next Vincent Chase?" The weird thoughts we have while pregnant.
(I've had dreams the last THREE nights that I've been chased and hotly pursued by a Grizzly bear. What on earth does THAT mean?)
Of course you won't be the last. It's only 2008. I still have 2018 (ish) to do it myself.
Ok (not so) secretly, I totally wish that you were my mom. You all are going to be great parents. Worries and all.
Oh the joys.... so glad that you are aboard this crazy train. Sending you good thoughts.
It's a crazy ride, that in my opinion just goes too fast. I can't believe that my little girl is just 5 years from Graduation and my baby is in her last year of elementary! I know its a bit cliche but enjoy and cherish every moment. They never repeat themselves!!
I hope I don't come off as an immature jerk and I mean this in the tone of constructive criticism, but whoa there hormones!
This is the worst concept and presentation (though of immaculate construction as I've come to expect) of any single entry I've read in the past year. :/
"as long as I'm saying *something*" is probably a big warning sign, for future reference.
That said, I'm glad you're reflecting on future parentry and finding some way to distract yourself from excessive squee-age at your next visit to SLC.
Hey, I'm **super** excited to read about your journey!! Even if it's a journey that someone else has gone through, YOU have your own unique perspective of it, and YOU have a wonderful way of putting things!! I think you have important and unique things to say about the pregnancy experience, and I find your "something" to be quite valuable. Keep it coming, my dear.
I don't want to give you any unsolicited advice, and I know that you know all of this already (and I also know that you are a huuuuuge planner), but I just want to give you a gentle reminder to stay in the moment. Enjoy the little kicks and sleepless nights and cravings, and enjoy each stage of your child's journey through life. Life is so unpredictable and it all seems to happen so fast! So make sure that you have time to breathe, soak it in, and enjoy it all :).
Oh, and again with the unsolicited two cents: I, for one, loved the content and presentation of this entry :)
You're not the last... And as someone who is where you were a year or so ago (give or take), I can tell you that I'll be reading and learning from your experiences, and hoping that in a few months I'll be able to say something, anything, about being pregnant and having a baby. It doesn't matter how many mothers chronicle this experience, it's still compelling and wonderful.
ps no advice from this corner. You seem to be doing just fine following your own path. Plus- I know nothing!
Cracked and bleeding nipples? Ouch.
Well that was something I didn't know. And I learned about on here. :-)
Your boy is going to be so gifted, no matter what. I'm one of the many excited people who's glad that you're sharing it all with us.
xxx
I can guarantee you that most everything you'll write here in the coming months will be new to me - and I'm really looking forward to reading it.
All's I can say is thank goodness for all these bloggers writing about their pregnancy/childbirth/parenting experiences - they gave me my first lesson in What It's Like. Sure, they might not have been saying anything "new," and if I had stumbled upon them, say, five years ago, I would have immediately navigated away, but when I was ready to start thinking about this whole Baby Thing, nothing was more comforting to me than reading the blogs of people who had gone (and were still going) through it. THANK YOU, baby bloggers of the world, for teaching me what an episiotomy is. Yowza. WHY DON'T THEY TELL US THIS STUFF IN SEX ED?!
Also: I live in fear of having a kid who is insanely talented at something like ice skating. I don't see the gold medals and my chest swollen with pride - I see years and years of 8 hour round-trip drives to the skating rink to meet with her Russian coach, whose services cost more than my mortgage. Because I am selfless like that.
no, but your take on it all is the first for you - which is the same for me - my first - our first - completely wonderful and original to us.. and our experience is original when we write about it where others can read (and please keep up the writing, even if you think it's not original, as it is great to read, and original from you)
X
I am about a month behind you, and though I enjoy all your entries, I'm especially tuned in at the moment precisely BECAUSE we're going through the same things. I want to hear what someone else thinks about it and how their experience is similar or different from mine. Keep writing about your pregnancy! I love it! And don't put pressure on yourself to be profound. It's not like life outside of pregnancy is always profound. And yet you've always managed to write consistently fun and thoughtful entries on everything from falling in love to buying a new car to gardening (these are experiences we all have too). Life is in the details. Keep 'em coming.
(Just in case anyone's feeling ruffled on my behalf regarding Gretyl's comment, please don't be. I've known him (yes) since he was a wee lad, and it's all cool.)
um, yes, this was me..pregnant in 2001. and 2002. and 2005.
;)
I honestly think that any little/grown up being who has you two for parents IS GOING TO BE REALLY NEAT.
I think I'm too much of a control freak to be a parent-though I do love children an awful lot.
(my Blogher roommate has 2 of the most beautiful children I've ever laid eyes on. To the point where I blindsided my generally-nervous-around-kids boyfriend with Saturday night babysitting duty and he was so taken with her kid I didn't hear a peep out of him about it)
My desi achievement genes came out late but holy crap they are OUT AND ABOUT now. The thought of an underachieving child or gods forbid, an artistic child, make me kind of trembly. In a take to her bedroom with a cold compress type way. Why wouldn't hypothetical my bay-bay want to be a lawyer or inventor or doctor or finance dork like the rest of its psychotic family? WHYYYYYYYYYYYY? Don't you want to be bourgeois baby?
Damn, looking back I don't know how my parents kept their sh*t together when I was a teenager. I used to pretend to want to be a journalist or something. They must have really been betting that the desi would come out sooner or later.
Getting back to the original point. Children-too much chaos for me.
Funny you should write this, as I sat watching the Olympics this morning with my 16 week old boy on my lap, and tears shot into my eyes when a german swimmer ( i live in germany), who had unexpectedly qualified for the final of his event, grabbed the mike at the end of the interview to say hi to his family, who had got up at 4am to watch him race. I thought of the families of those athletes, who have spent years driving their kids to practice, supporting them mentally, emotionally and of course financially, and who now are sitting at home, watching their babies compete against the rest of the world in their chosen discipline, whether or not they are likely to win a medal, just so proud of their accomplishments...