XBoy “took a tumble” (his words) Wednesday at school down the church steps (outside). He said he tripped, fell on his head and then flipped over. He had a knot on his forehead and a scraped up knee. No blood. He said the grown-ups and his classmates came to his aid.

He’s fine.

However, do you think that this incident qualifies for a formal notification to the parents, via either a note, email, phone call, etc., or not?

I ask because we did not know about this until we noticed his knee during his bath that night. I did see he had a red mark on his forehead when I had picked him up at five but didn’t think much of it as he has a tendency to bump into things (I think I’ve mentioned before his large head which tends to screw with his center of balance).

I am wondering if I should have expected a note about it or if I’m just being an overprotective Mom. If you wouldn’t expect a note for this example, what kind of injury would you expect to receive notice for, whether it’s daycare or school?

no. 609 – Rorschach Test

Got the message loud and clear: I’m boring the shit out of you. I can appreciate that after two and half years of "something" going on, my writing about Nothing is sending you off to greener pastures and acute narcolepsy.

So fine, I’ll talk about the pregnancy by answering your unanswered questions:

Have you picked out any baby names? I have one name for one sex and I guarantee everyone will most likely hate it. I’m so confident in that, I haven’t even told Mr. DD but it’s one of my maternal grandparent’s name who died when my Mom was only three.

What are the colors in the "nursery"? It is still the spare bedroom and will be for sometime as we will probably just put the baby in a drawer or laundry basket in our room until s/he outgrows it. When s/he get evicted from there, the room will be yellow – which is its current color.

Have you told anyone else? I haven’t, but Mr. Big Mouth did. Sunday after we told his parents he spent the day sending pictures of ultrasounds and texting his siblings and nieces and nephews. I was livid since my mother doesn’t get back until next week from Jordan so no one on my side of the family knows yet.

Are you still not going to find out the sex? I would like to, but Mr. BM (well that’s fitting) remains fixed in his opinion. No, I’m sure I couldn’t find out and not give it away. Could you?

Tuesday is the anatomy scan. We will record a bit of it on tape to show XBoy. I thought about bringing him, but if Murdock ends up being a lizard instead of a normal looking baby, I’m going to be in no mood to explain why at that moment.

Last question: What’s been the grossest thing about pregnancy?

Sweat-stained knickers.

Kinda looked like a butterfly.

no. 608 – The Goodyear Blimp, It Is Not

Every Monday, XBoy’s class gets to go to the library at school and pick out a book for the week. Books have been integral to our routine over the years, but I have to admit that since he started Kindergarten and the proceedings to emancipate himself from Mom and Dad, the nightly readings of three books have turned into a mighty fuss and roar about whether or not he needs to wear pajamas, brush his teeth and straighten his room all followed by him passing out in an exhausted heap.

He’s already brought home two versions of the Bible, elementary style. He liked the illustrations.

And then Stiletto mentioned something about one of the books The Boy brought home from school and it reminded me of one of XBoy’s recent acquisitions:

Hindenburg Ummmm, call me a little overprotective of my sweet, darling baby boy, but is this the kind of book a librarian should steer an impressionable six year old towards?

It’s got pictures of severely burned passengers in it.

It’s got pictures of the cloth covered bodies in it.

Actually, I don’t know if he knew that or not as he never opened it while it was in our house, but I did sit down and read most of it myself (too bad about that whole helium vs. hydrogen business because it really does sound like a nice way to travel).

The week before it was a book about the different kinds of lightning there are. That one I ended up reading cover to cover for him, but only because it had really large font and the words were on one page and really cool pictures were on the opposite. Go ahead – quiz me about lightning. For that matter, go ahead and quiz me about the Hindenburg. I wonder if I can get him to bring home a pregnancy book…

By the way, does anyone else see the irony in the instructional books for teaching your child how to read "phonetically"?

no. 607 – Adrienne & Shelli

I really don’t know what to say. Oro pointed me in the direction of this fairly new blog, written by Adrienne who discovered that she lost her baby girl, Claire, around her 36th week. I don’t know if the author will be back, but as Oro pointed out, it’d be nice if she saw the support this community can offer at such a sad time.

Also, Shelli had her second ultrasound and her baby’s heart had stopped beating sometime after her 6w+ scan last week and today. Shelli, I am so very and truly sorry.

no. 606 – You Guys Are So Smart!

Ask me about reproduction and I can give you all the clinical babble of ovulation, corpus luteum, luteal phase, progesterone, hCG, etc., etc.

Now ask me about pregnancy.




Yep, that’s uncharacteristic silence on my end.

It matters not that I’ve had a term pregnancy before. I just followed along in the book from month to month about what is expected. The book found it’s way to the trash a couple years ago and out of superstition, I just cannot get another.

That’s why after your comments about anterior placentas, I googled my brains out. It makes sense now to me. Plus I know that kind of information probably isn’t in any book, especially one rendered in watercolor with a very pregnant woman in a nightdress rubbing her abdomen absently with a quilt illustrated background *gah!*.

By the way, do you all know what anterior placenta means? It means that if you had x-ray vision and was able to view my gelatin-like abdomen, the placenta is between you and Murdock. In most cases, the placenta is behind the baby, attached to the uterus like a bean bag between the spine and baby.

Now I have no idea if that’s what I have, but I’m clinging to that thought for the next six days. My anatomy scan is next Tuesday. I’ll find out then if my placenta is indeed anterior and if Murdock is developing normally or if s/he is possibly going to end up like this "baby". Download walmart.wmv

no. 605 – Letting the Cat Out

There’s so much more now on the line. We told XBoy about Murdock, and as most of you guessed he responded excitedly. Thankfully, there were no technical questions we had to answer just an affirmation that yes, I will get fatter. I let him listen to the heartbeat with the doppler and even used it on him.

I wasn’t sure if he would dwell on it, and thankfully he hasn’t. Every once in a while he’ll ask baby-specific questions: "Did you keep my baby stuff?" "Can the baby sleep in my room?" "Can we take the baby to the beach this year?", but I’m actually grateful that he doesn’t constantly go on. One person in the household obsessing about it was enough.

That was Wednesday. Then Saturday night, out with Mr. DD’s parents, XBoy told his grandparents. They were uncharacteristically happy about the news. I say "uncharacteristically" because they are very stoic people. My MIL was glad to hear that "we finally got one to stick."

But now I’m even more paranoid that something will go bad. I’m glad we told XBoy about the doppler so I can go use it without having to sneak away. It doesn’t help that I still haven’t felt any movement at 18 1/2 weeks, even though it’s not uncommon for women to feel movement earlier in subsequent pregnancies. I can’t even say I’ve thought I’ve felt movement.

That and my perception that physically I’ve had little change leads me to joke outwardly with the few friends that know that I’m going to give birth to a child with tyrannosaurus rex limbs which are ineffectively punching at my uterus. I try to use logic when I’m out of jokes that it’s all about fetal placement; or maybe I had nerve damage from my c-section and can’t feel the movement.

It’s what these past few years have been full of: outward jokes to deflect the standard platitudes and inward bargaining and reasoning, both used to keep me as sane as possible. It’s exhausting and I can’t plan any further ahead than tomorrow. It’s "funny" how with each milestone I think I can relax, and so far I haven’t reached any one particular milestone that I have really felt that my guard can come down. I sincerely doubt I will.