Yep. You guessed it, another LM impersonator who has STOLEN the identity of LM while she basks in the baby pool in the wilds of Nebraska. I don’t have a blog so since LM had no frame of reference it isn’t her fault if I stink at the blog thing. Maybe I won’t. I love to READ blogs. I’m just way too much of a slacker to actually blog on my own. But still, I think about it. So here I am testing the waters – what would I blog about? The usual things, life, work, balance, and the Center of the Universe which shifted on April 18, 2005.
Just in case you missed the bulletin the world now revolves around a young Virginian named Caleb. (Hereinafter “C”.) I am 45 years old. C’s brothers, R and T, are 21 and 18 YEARS old. C is two. He is the terrible, incorrigible, adorable, fabulous, funny, willful center of my world. I got pregnant (all three times actually) the old fashioned way: unexpectedly and unintentionally. Yes, I do know where they come from but according to my doctor no more babies should have come from me. He (Cute Dr. J) sent me for an ultrasound to see why I wasn’t having periods. He wasn’t particularly concerned and it took me a few months to get around to having it (hard to schedule at the Navy hospital, new job, missed the first one when my car was left too long in the valet lot and the keys went away with the attendant – you know I was BUSY). I eventually presented myself at the hospital and was chatting with the ultrasound technician about how I’d never seen an ultrasound without a baby in it when she squirted the gel, placed the thingamabob on my stomach and Oops – I still haven’t seen an ultrasound without a baby in it. Sixteen weeks along, all his fingers and toes clearly visible, C.
My equally busy husband, M, was stationed on a ship the year C was conceived and was deployed when I found out. Not a long deployment just gone Monday through Friday most weeks to PREPARE to deploy for six months. I told him on a friend’s cell phone (M NEVER hears his phone ring) as they were leaving Connecticut. M had apparently spent the weekend in various bars with his friends extolling the virtues of being at the “finish line” – said friends all had young kids and we were nearly through raising ours. T was in high school and we could see the childless light at the end of our tunnel. He also had a dream about a fish (apparently a sure sign that a baby is on the way – who knew).
Stunned disbelief followed in short order by fear, amniocentesis, and finally overwhelming relief that the baby was a healthy boy. (I know, I only wanted a healthy baby but I REALLY didn’t want to have to face a 17 year old girl when I was 60.)
M’s ship deployed, as scheduled, one week before C was born (nope, they don’t make special allowances for that in the Navy, and nope, the Navy physicians do not induce labor prior to 38 weeks just to allow Dad to meet the baby before he leaves). This was followed by ten days of exhaustion in the hospital while C had pneumonia, four months of exhaustion and loneliness while home alone with all three boys, and two months of exhaustion and exhilaration when I started work at a new job (which I still love). Then finally, the ship came home, Dad met Boy, and we gradually settled into our present life. Is our present life enough to blog about? I spend plenty of time TALKING about it… But do I have enough to say to fill up a couple of paragraphs several times a week. Maybe. What would I call it? Raising Oops? Not “just” a mom? Afterthoughts?
Recent topics on my nonexistent blog: T’s Selective Service Registration letter (I know R must have received one but I just don’t remember it), T’s high school graduation, vacationing in Myrtle Beach with M’s siblings and their NINE children, sharing a two bedroom condo with the family responsible for FIVE of the nine, beach days with C (and LM – yes, I was present when she basted little H), loving C, loving M, loving my job and still loving C, not having enough time to be great at ANYTHING…
I could post C’s adorable photos.
But then I’d have to tell my family and what about when I blog about them? If I don’t talk about what is currently driving me crazy will I really have anything to say? Who knows. Stay tuned. And thanks for listening…
Just in case you missed the bulletin the world now revolves around a young Virginian named Caleb. (Hereinafter “C”.) I am 45 years old. C’s brothers, R and T, are 21 and 18 YEARS old. C is two. He is the terrible, incorrigible, adorable, fabulous, funny, willful center of my world. I got pregnant (all three times actually) the old fashioned way: unexpectedly and unintentionally. Yes, I do know where they come from but according to my doctor no more babies should have come from me. He (Cute Dr. J) sent me for an ultrasound to see why I wasn’t having periods. He wasn’t particularly concerned and it took me a few months to get around to having it (hard to schedule at the Navy hospital, new job, missed the first one when my car was left too long in the valet lot and the keys went away with the attendant – you know I was BUSY). I eventually presented myself at the hospital and was chatting with the ultrasound technician about how I’d never seen an ultrasound without a baby in it when she squirted the gel, placed the thingamabob on my stomach and Oops – I still haven’t seen an ultrasound without a baby in it. Sixteen weeks along, all his fingers and toes clearly visible, C.
My equally busy husband, M, was stationed on a ship the year C was conceived and was deployed when I found out. Not a long deployment just gone Monday through Friday most weeks to PREPARE to deploy for six months. I told him on a friend’s cell phone (M NEVER hears his phone ring) as they were leaving Connecticut. M had apparently spent the weekend in various bars with his friends extolling the virtues of being at the “finish line” – said friends all had young kids and we were nearly through raising ours. T was in high school and we could see the childless light at the end of our tunnel. He also had a dream about a fish (apparently a sure sign that a baby is on the way – who knew).
Stunned disbelief followed in short order by fear, amniocentesis, and finally overwhelming relief that the baby was a healthy boy. (I know, I only wanted a healthy baby but I REALLY didn’t want to have to face a 17 year old girl when I was 60.)
M’s ship deployed, as scheduled, one week before C was born (nope, they don’t make special allowances for that in the Navy, and nope, the Navy physicians do not induce labor prior to 38 weeks just to allow Dad to meet the baby before he leaves). This was followed by ten days of exhaustion in the hospital while C had pneumonia, four months of exhaustion and loneliness while home alone with all three boys, and two months of exhaustion and exhilaration when I started work at a new job (which I still love). Then finally, the ship came home, Dad met Boy, and we gradually settled into our present life. Is our present life enough to blog about? I spend plenty of time TALKING about it… But do I have enough to say to fill up a couple of paragraphs several times a week. Maybe. What would I call it? Raising Oops? Not “just” a mom? Afterthoughts?
Recent topics on my nonexistent blog: T’s Selective Service Registration letter (I know R must have received one but I just don’t remember it), T’s high school graduation, vacationing in Myrtle Beach with M’s siblings and their NINE children, sharing a two bedroom condo with the family responsible for FIVE of the nine, beach days with C (and LM – yes, I was present when she basted little H), loving C, loving M, loving my job and still loving C, not having enough time to be great at ANYTHING…
I could post C’s adorable photos.
But then I’d have to tell my family and what about when I blog about them? If I don’t talk about what is currently driving me crazy will I really have anything to say? Who knows. Stay tuned. And thanks for listening…
14 Comments:
Thanks for your work and have a good day
Some of these are questions I asked myself before I started to blog. But as to whether you'll find enough to say in order to post three or four times a week?
That was a worry of mine. And guess what? I shouldn't have worried! And you probably shouldn't either.
I say go for it!
As a huge fan of both nonsense and fluff.....I can say that my experiences as a mom provide lots of both...as well as many other things.
I am already interested...I say JUST DO IT!
I say give it a go...three months trial at least. I bet you get hooked. :) No harm in this trying.
And wow, what a story!
Cute boy. :)
Zoinks! What a story. I will have a 17-yr-old gil when I am 57. I'm already trembling.
As for blogging, I think that most of us who do it would attest to the fact that before you blog you worry that you will run out of things to write about. Once you start blogging, you get frustrated by how many post you'd like to write and just how little time you have to do it all in. I say give it a go.
What a story! I don't talk much about what drives me crazy to preserve some dignity for my husband and kids (since I display my real name) and I still have a lot to talk about. I don't always have time to post it all, but there's plenty of fodder.
Go with it!
Just with that story you have blog fodder for at least a month. Just DO IT. You really will love it.
Now I'm wondering who you are of course...
LOVED your story! You should totally start your own blog--I'd read it for sure.
what a great story!
I agree - great story!!!!
Loved your post. Personally, I would read your blog.
You're a great writer. I say go for it! BTW, I love 'Raising Oops'. That is hilarious!
I'm new at this blogging thing. I try to do three posts a week, but ocassionally it's only two. You can do it! Oh and I want the link so I can peek in.
Bloging is fun!
(and by doing this, you reduce the need to spend time socializing in person)
Ok. Its done. I have thought about nothing except what to write (that's not entirely true but you'll never know if you don't actually LOOK at my blog) and after shamelessly cross-posting this post I have my own blog.
My first "new" post is a tribute to my darling mother in law who lost her fight with cancer yesterday. It was a losing battle from the day of the diagnosis but she was SUCH a fighter.
You can find me at: http://notexactlyaprincess.blogspot.com
not as cute as Raising Oops but it gives me a silly perspective to write from. FYI the only princess I'm close to being is Cinderella pre-fairy godmother.
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