Twas little more than a fortnight until Baby G’s unveiling

This is a fancy way of saying “16 days until Baby G is supposed to come into this world.” Biceps and I are feeling a little more prepared, but I tend to freak out silently from time to time. I have a few questions that no one seems to be answering:

1. What if the baby comes early and I’m not ready?
–The typical answer: Oh, you’ll be ready, you say.
–My rebuttal: Oh yeah? You don’t know my emotional ramping-up needs. It took me two years to be emotionally ready for marriage after a terrible break-up with the “wrong guy”. TWO YEARS. I could have acquired a Master’s Degree in that time.

2. What if I toot around my kid, then realize I shouldn’t have, then apologized, then he/she tells on me in some ridiculously public place and uses this ammunition as their own leverage to toot willy-nilly?
–The typical answer: That’s the least of your worries, you say.
–My rebuttal: Is it? I have a non-tooting reputation to uphold. Be quiet any of you out there that know otherwise.

3. What if not getting enough sleep, along with my hormones going wacko, along with a dirty house, piles of laundry and a messy kitchen causes me to just walk out of the house one day and never come back? What if I’m not quite the superhero woman I think I am?
–The typical answer: You’ll adjust, you say. You’re going to get used to your house being messier, the dishes not being done and you’ll eventually get sleep.
–My rebuttal:You apparently don’t know my obsessive-compulsiveness or my extreme need for a clean house.

4. What if I totally screw up my kid and they turn into some sort of Hannibal Lecter or a serial killer or, even worse-don’t like cats?
–The typical answer: You’re going to screw up for sure, you say. But you won’t screw up this badly.
–My rebuttal: I once put my baby brother underneath a clothes hamper, sat on top of it and didn’t move until I was threatened by my mother. Who does that? And, I’m sure Hitler’s mother didn’t think she would screw up Adolf. Look what happened there.

5. What if my kid follows my pattern of a self-absorbed childhood thinking I looked awesome in this dress, my risky teenage years of driving too fast and dating too old of guys, ill-planned college years where I barely made A’s and broke a boy’s heart out of complete selfishness and finally a few adult years of somewhat gained but lackluster maturity where I see few peaks but mostly valleys of incompetence?
–The typical answer: Your kid is going to be awesome. Besides, you’ve got Bicep’s influence and he’s awesome.
–My rebuttal: I’ll give you that. Biceps is awesome.

How could a kid not grow up to be awesome with this guy as his dad?
–The typical answer: It’s impossible.
–My rebuttal: I have none.

What were your biggest worries or fears before becoming a parent?

Baby & Nursery Preparedness on a Budget

Apparently, there is a lot to do to prepare for the birth of your first. Little did I know the path we were on when we first found out we were with child.

Here are a few things I never saw coming and to be honest, slightly blindsided me:

1. I would have to buy stretchy pants-like really insane, elastic stretchy pants.
2. I would be using cocoa butter religiously (and the smell always makes me want cookies) on my ever increasing belly.
3. People would touch my stomach. These are people I don’t know and people I do know and people I wish I didn’t know.
4. I would develop a strange brown “racing stripe” down the center of my stomach.
5. I would actually find baby clothes with tiny animals on them-cute.

However, these are minor things to adjust to compared to preparing a nursery for this tiny lad/lass. I’ve always thought, “Give the kid a dresser drawer to sleep in, some milk to drink and a clean diaper. Call it done.”

But….

…then I start to imagine what kind of a sweet setup I could give to the wee little one, without spending all of their college tuition on a silly room they’ll never remember. (HAH! Like we’re paying for your college! Get a job! Cut your hair!).

With my imaginings, I lay awake at night and plot my grandiose nursery plan. The next morning, I start creating things out of almost nothings. Here’s the beginning of the wall decor for the nursery. I will share a tutorial on this as soon as it’s finished and I make sure the project is actually doable.

The mobile to hang over the crib came after much deliberation between Biceps and I. We settled on a concept-with which I will share soon. All I needed was some stuffing, some felt, some more paper mache know-how, and a few coat hangers.

PS-Is that felt? Well, it is now!

Something you must know about me-I hate curtains. Number one: the cats love to destroy them. Number two: they are stinking expensive. Number three: there are never any store-bought curtains that Biceps and I can agree on.

However, when the dollar spent is low enough, Biceps will like almost anything. Enter cheap, heavy duty drop cloths and a little Rebekah-whimsy. This too will be a tutorial I will share-as soon as it’s done. Patience, grasshopper.

And lastly, I must introduce some sort of wooden feature into this baby’s room. Why? Because it brings warmth, it reminds one of nature and of God’s creation…and it’s also inexpensive.

So, maybe this kid will get more than a dresser drawer to sleep in-but they aren’t going to be spoiled, that’s for sure. We all have to make sacrifices, kiddo. And, if I have to wear stretchy pants that sag down to my knees by the end of the day, you can pretend to like your room. Deal?

What is my Mom thinking? (Installment #3 from Baby Greiman)

My mom is so awkward. I’m not talking about a normal smell-your-armpits awkward.

I’m talking about making everyone and everything in a room feel an intense dread come over them, with no hope of escape awkward.

Yep, that’s her. In this never-before-seen photo, one can clearly see a hint of the awkwardness she’s capable of.

My mom may be a bit old-fashioned. But, I see that as a good thing. Who wants a wild child, table-dancing, booby bead gathering woman for a mom? Not me.

However, this type of old-fashioned behavior is not a welcome thing in the doctor’s office. It just makes everyone wish they were somewhere else. Let me tell you a little story of what happened at her last exam so that you may judge for yourself.

Due to an insurance change, my mom had to switch doctors in the middle of me growing in her belly. She loved her original doctor who was/is kind, sweet and understanding of her bizarre behavior.

The new doctor is also kind but less understanding. (See below).

Doctor: I’m going to leave the room. Go ahead and get undressed and put this robe on.
Mom: Um… Why?
Doctor: We need to do an examination and make sure everything is progressing normally.
Mom: “Everything”-like what?
Doctor: (at this point, he has sighed audibly) We’ll do a breast examination and I want to see what kind of pelvic structure you have.
Mom: I wasn’t mentally prepared for this.
Doctor: Would you like to make another appointment when you are more prepared?
Mom: No, it’s cool. Seriously. Totes. I mean…I just didn’t know. I wasn’t ready. Do I get a treat afterwards? (Dad suddenly found his phone very intriguing).
Doctor: There are some chocolates up front. Are you sure you’re ok?
Mom: Yeah. Totally. I’m great. Really. I’m ready. Alright, I’ll robe it up. This will be awesome.
(The doctor slowly vacates the room).

It got worse from there. She put the robe on backwards, said “ouch” and tried making small talk throughout the examination.

I may be only 2 pounds and have just formed my own eyebrows, but I can recognize abnormal behavior when I hear it. Once again, please pray for me to have a semblance of a normal life when I finally reach the outside world.

Baby G. out.

*read Installment #1 and Installment #2 from Baby G