Ugly

We have hit the third trimester mark. Now we are counting how many weeks we have left (13) rather than how many weeks we are into pregnancy. I say we- but Kylie is the beautiful one with a basketball jutting from her abdomen. Scout’s little jabs have turned into horse kicks and we know he’s going to have the same powerful soccer player thighs both Ky and I have.

It is getting to the point that I am starting to wonder what he is going to look like. Is he going to have the same potato shaped birthmark on his side that Kylie has? Will he get the small useless crooked pinkies that I got from my Nana? He’ll most likely have a small nose like both Kylie and I unless some random big nose gene intrudes from my family.

I have never been the type of person to fawn over how cute a baby is. Newborns are wrinkly and creepy and look like they have an undercover agenda. I’m told that I will think mine is beautiful no matter what. I’m leery of this and I kinda don’t want this switch to flip in me. I think I’d be okay with thinking it’s not the cutest baby in the world. In fact, is it okay to say that I would even be happy to have an ugly baby?

Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! WHOA! Okay, I said that. Now let’s set things straight. First and foremost I want a healthy baby- that is the most important thing. When I say “ugly” I’m not hoping for an ugly baby. I don’t secretly want Kylie to give birth to Sloth from The Goonies.  (I can make that joke because Sloth is not real- no matter how much I thought he was when I was a kid).

sloth

I guess what I’m saying is I’d be perfectly happy with an Ugly Duckling. Of course I wouldn’t want my kid to go through his whole life being a very unfortunate looking person with a small nose and thunder thighs. But as a baby, if he’s not the cutest thing, I would love to see adults meet him for the first time and watch them come up with a lying compliment. “Um, he’s cute….. Where’d you get that onesie?”

I imagine the tone to be similar to that of the person at the bar who asks me to make them something different- what do they say?

“Make me anything you want- something different- anything- I love everything- Make me something YOU would drink.” I then make them something that I like and would love to drink… “Wow… That’s in – ter – est – ing”. “Interesting” is drawn out across thirty seconds while they stare at it and avoid eye contact with me.

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I used to take this very personally. But after a couple years of bartending I now take great joy in this response because it is usually a person who is trying to flaunt their adventurousness to their friends. His/her drink will sit there getting warm while his/her friends finish their round. As I get everyone another drink the adventurous one will point to their lukewarm drink, “This is really good, but I think I’m just not in the mood for it- Can I get a vodka-soda?” 

Wow, that makes me look like a bad bartender but- OH MY! This is my baby blog- sorry- but that was really cathartic. So anyway- that tone- “Um, cute”. I love watching bad liars lie.

I do have some worries though. They usually surface when I look at the local mugshots. Our newspaper posts them online. Here are some of my favorites…

 

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All these guys were babies once. Somehow, some way, they grew up and lost their innocence. They have all done some fucked up shit. This is what scares me- and I don’t even know what about it scares me. I used to just look at these and think nothing of them- it would just remind me that there are some really fucked up people in Missoula County. But now, with a kid on the way, these faces affect me differently. They put me on edge. They make me want to protect Scout from all the other people like them. I want to keep whatever influenced them as far away as possible from my unborn child. I don’t even want him to see these people. This is a brand new feeling inside that I can only describe as some sort of carnal protectiveness. I didn’t even know it was inside me until I saw these mugshots today. It makes me want to hide every single person like this from Scout. It makes me want to protect him from the truth of what some people truly are… ugly.

Pregaroonies

Kylie is twenty-three weeks pregnant today. Scout is purring all curled up in the wooly of his little womb. His lungs are tidying up so he can breath air when he comes out to meet us. June 8th is just around the corner now- well, it will be- so Kylie and I are signing up for birth classes and figuring out other stuff like the diaper situation- poop- there will be lots of it- cribs and rock-n-plays and carseats and slings and changing tables and this and that. It’s not overwhelming, it’s just a whole new world. It’s a lot different from when we used to abstractly think about babies in the past- when it was just fun and inconsequential…

 

So we’ve been busy with planning and thinking about things like names and to snip or not to snip. For now, Scout has one name- Scout- until he is born, and then we will share his human name with everyone. We haven’t settled on a name yet anyway. At the beginning, when it was fun to just come up with names, it was nice to share with friends and family. But we also found that positive or negative reactions really did have some influence as to whether or not we kept a name kicking around. So as we narrow it down we decided it’s really best if we just keep it to ourselves. (It’s just another thing I’ve never thought about until actually going through it.)

Another preparation that began in the last month is the baby room. My spare bedroom (yeah, I know, how posh of me) will be Scout’s room. Some time in January I started the mural. It got bigger than expected and I still have A LOT of work to do- like probably another month or two at the rate I’m working- but here are some details of what has happened so far…

 

That’s all I got today- I gotta put the computer away and pick up a paint brush. Hope your February is going well- and Happy Black History Month!

Pear

I’ve really got nothing to say. I just have a tinge of excitement that’s a little more than usual today. I can’t really explain it. We are fifteen weeks pregnant today. Scout is the size of a pear. Maybe that’s it- a pear. I feel that a pear is pretty substantial- something you can hold in your hand and feel the weight of and throw like a baseball. Sure, Scout was the size of a fig and kiwi once, but I don’t like figs or kiwis. And a peach just doesn’t have the integrity that a pear does. A pear has a little shape and character.

Supposedly, our little pear can make a fist now. It can yawn and blink and rub it’s eyes. It’s also forming hair follicles. Let’s hope Scout is taking after Kylie in that department. Speaking of Kylie, she is feeling great and has her energy back. She said a significant bump appeared overnight. I haven’t had the chance to see it yet because of our schedules. Tomorrow morning I get to check that bugger out.

Also, we heard Scout’s heartbeat a few days ago. It sounded like an underwater monster. Really, if I was swimming and I heard that same sound I’d probably freak the f out. But considering the circumstances of hearing it in the OBGYN’s office turned it into a sweet sound. It was a very reassuring sound to hear.

Don’t worry, I’m not going to turn into that parent that thinks their baby is the cutest thing in the world- I have control over that right? As of now I think newborns are one of the grossest things in the world. A banana slug has more grace than a human newborn. My mom gave me some pictures of me fresh out of the womb (don’t worry, I’m not going to post one at the bottom) and I’m a little surprised that my parents decided to take me home. My head was mashed into the shape of, well, a pear actually. I guess my newborn head just had a little shape and character. It returned to a more normal shape after a day or two I guess, but man, it had to freak my parents out a little, right, thinking their first kid was going to have a head shaped like Sloth from The Goonies.

That’s all I have today. Just some ramblings. I also just wanted to say thank you for reading. I know most of you are family. Some of you are friends. And a few people I’ve never met before. But thank you all. I hope this blog is at least a little entertaining. At the very least, it keeps me out of trouble. Please pass it along to whomever you wish.

Thank You!